The Sons of Ignatius Dalton
by beachfrontpoet
Summary: Kurt Hummel has just transferred to Dalton Academy, where he is inducted into a unique secret society founded by the Warblers. But when a new headmaster threatens to disband all clubs and organizations, Kurt and company know it's time to strike back!
1. Induction

The pillow case was swiftly pulled off of Kurt's head. He was breathing heavily, almost hyperventilating after the shock of being taken hostage by two burly students dressed in black cloaks. He'd not been at Dalton Academy for a full 24 hours and already he was being held hostage? He looked around at the two goons and shouted "What the hell is going on here?" He was terrified. The whole trauma from the Karofsky incident flashed back into his memory as he was now kneeling on the cold marble floor of a darkened room lit only by candles.

"Please don't be alarmed, Kurt." A familiar voice drew his attention to the front of the shadowy room. In the dim light, he could see that it was Wes Fong, one of the senior councilmembers of the Warblers who had given Kurt a tour of Dalton Academy earlier that afternoon. "Please do forgive David and Thad's abduction approach." Wes glared at the two hooded figures standing on both sides of Kurt. "I promise you they meant no harm."

David Johnson, another of the senior councilmembers, threw up his hands in defense. "Hey, it was all Thad's idea," pointing to the slender boy standing next to him. Thad rolled his eyes but smirked at him.

"That's quite enough from both of you," Wes said as he leaned forward in his seat behind the long table. As Kurt's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed that the four of them were not alone in the room. In fact, he was in the direct center of a circle of all the Warblers, all of whom were wearing those black cloaks with the hoods pulled back. He spotted Blaine Anderson, his first friend (and crush) at Dalton, somewhere to his right. The other boy gave him a small nod and a slight smile signifying that everything was going to be okay. The gesture certainly relaxed Kurt's nerves and made his heart race a bit faster.

"Now, Kurt," Wes began. "I'm sure you're curious as to why you've been brought here this evening."

Kurt chuckled nervously and said "Do you think?" he asked sarcastically. All the Warblers laughed before Wes continued. "Well, to complete your acceptance into the Dalton Academy Warblers, we would like to induct you as our newest member into the Sons of Ignatius Dalton."

Kurt tilted his head to one side questioningly. "Who are the Sons of Igneous Dalton?" he asked, mispronouncing the name.

Wes smiled as the candlelight flickered across his face. "The Sons of Ignatius Dalton is a secret society founded by the Warblers back in 1911. Ignatius Dalton, the founder and first headmaster of our school in 1891, was also the creator and director of the Warblers. He was headmaster for twenty years until his passing of tuberculosis in the fall of 1911.

"The night after his funeral, it is said that one of the Warblers went to pay a visit to the old headmaster's abandoned office, only to find a caged canary sitting on the desk. After consulting with other fellow Warblers and inquiring with all the students and faculty at Dalton, no one could explain where the canary had come from. Seeing it as a sign that Ignatius Dalton was still with them, the Warblers formed a secret society in the hopes of keeping their beloved music director's spirit alive, and generations have done so to this day. As for the canary, it has become our emblem, a symbol of the passion and exuberant joy that this glee club brought Ignatius Dalton. We Warblers worship the canary, hearing the perfection in its song that we all strive to achieve."

Kurt sat, awestruck, as the images of Wes' story played out cinematically in his mind's eye. Wes grinned at the look of wonderment on the new student's face. "Whatever transpires here tonight, Kurt, you must not breathe a word to anyone outside of the Warblers' circle. Is that clear?" Kurt nodded, heart pounding in his chest and still startled by everything that had transpired.

Wes rose from his seat and as he did so, the Warblers closed up the circle, surrounding Kurt like a herd of buffalo protecting their calf. "Arise, Kurt Hummel," Wes said. Kurt rose to his feet and stood as straight as he possibly could with head held high and chest out. He could have sworn that he heard muffled laughter from Blaine's general direction.

Within a minute, Wes stood before him with a caged canary. "This is Pavarotti," he gestured to the adorable bird perched inside. "He is the descendent of the very first Warbler canary. Your induction into the Sons of Ignatius Dalton depends on his decision. If he sings, then you're in. If not…" Wes paused for a moment. "Well, we'll address that problem later." Wes put the cage on the floor directly at Kurt's feet. The others in the room took a giant step back, watching with bated breath as Pavarotti flitted around his cage.

Kurt could hear his heart pounding in his ears as two conflicting emotions ran through his mind. At first, he wanted to burst out laughing, thinking how silly it was that a bird would decide his future at Dalton Academy. On the other hand, he was feeling extremely nervous. He wanted nothing more than to become one of the Warblers and be included in all their activities. Hell, all he wanted was something the New Directions would never allow him: a solo. Blaine practically guaranteed him a solo at some point. The offer had been tempting. He knew he had what it took, but did Pavarotti know that? He shot a side glance at Blaine, who caught his eye and, though looking absolutely panic-stricken, nodded encouragingly in response.

Pavarotti, as if sensing all the tension in the room, simply sat on his perch and chirped a loud, beautiful note. The room erupted into tumultuous applause and cheers. Wes approached Kurt with a big smile. "Kurt, by the power vested in me as a senior councilmember of the Dalton Academy Warblers, it is my greatest honor to welcome you to the Sons of Ignatius Dalton!" Wes shook Kurt's hand and embraced the new kid in a tight hug. The other boys crowded him and Kurt somehow found Blaine in the melee and the two embraced. "You did it! You're one of us now, Kurt!" Blaine said excitedly, flashing his beautiful, mega-watt smile that made Kurt's heart do backflips. As the boys gathered around him and began to chant "Hummel! Hummel!" repeatedly, tears of joy filled Kurt's eyes. For the first time in what seemed a long while, he felt like he truly belonged.


	2. The New Headmaster

**Hey everyone! So, I've been receiving e-mails saying that people are starting to "watch" my first chapter. I take that to be a good sign! Thank you to those who have read it and are now following it. This is the second chapter of my story. I'm just sort of winging it for now, but I promise that everything comes together. Please tell me what you think! **

Kurt walked through the halls of Dalton like a new man. A silver pin shaped like a canary with blue topaz eyes glimmered on the lapel of his navy blue blazer. It showed his fellow students and classmates that he was now a bona fide Warbler. Never in his life had he walked so tall and proud. Every boy he passed in the hall seemed to smile at him and some even gave high-fives of encouragement as he strode past. Alright, so he couldn't dress in sassy, fashionable clothes, but he had to admit that he had never been happier in his years of schooling. Dalton Academy was like heaven on earth.

Speaking of heaven, Blaine suddenly appeared in Kurt's immediate line of vision, causing the new student to break his stride and almost immediately collapse into a pile of jelly. "Hey, Kurt!" he said, with another of his radiant smiles.

"Hi, Blaine!" Kurt replied and doing everything he could to make his voice sound less like a squeal and more like actual, intelligible words. The truth was, although he'd only known him for a few weeks, Kurt had come to develop a huge crush on the handsome boy. Never before in his life had he such a powerful ally and emotional connection with anyone as he did with Blaine. Also, Blaine's flirty personality certainly complicated things, offering Kurt a mixed bag of signals that not even the most skilled of flirts (Santana, for example,) could decipher.

"What's going on?" Blaine asked, giving Kurt's shoulder a friendly, gentle squeeze. The sensation sent shivers down his spine. "How was your first week? How are your classes going? Do you need any help getting around?"

"Blaine," Kurt interrupted, holding his hand up with a smile. "I'm doing just fine! You needn't worry about me." He was sincerely touched by Blaine's concern. "Honestly, I feel…" He paused for a moment, taking in the beautiful marble scenery that surrounded him. "…I feel like I belong here. I feel like I'm safe."

Blaine nodded and smiled. "Good, good," he replied. "I just wanted to make sure that you're comfortable here. Trust me there are no Karofskys here, Kurt. We support each other and we stand as one. And don't you ever forget that I've got your back." As he finished his speech with an intensity in his honey-gold eyes, Kurt forced himself to look away. A muffled "Thank you" was all he could squeal out.

Kurt then straightened up. "Well, I'm off to my first class!" He was about to turn when Blaine reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

"Oh! I almost forgot!"

Kurt found himself being pulled back around. He spun, almost tripping at the velocity of the pull, and immediately stood face-to-face with Blaine. Their faces were mere millimeters away from each other, Kurt's eyes darting from the golden sea of his eyes to his voluptuous lips. The natural scent of Blaine's body was a sweet, intoxicating ether that caused his heartbeat to quicken instantly.

Blaine's eyes connected with Kurt's blue ones. "There's a meeting of the Sons tonight," he whispered, almost sensually. "Meet me outside of the Main Hall at 11pm. We'll go together." Kurt nodded, though he had the sudden sensation that he was going to pass out. Blaine loosened his grip, flashed another smile, and walked away whistling, leaving Kurt weak-kneed and to ponder the meaning of Blaine's motivations.

* * *

><p>"This is now your office," Edward Lamont, Dalton's headmaster, said as he showed Allan Kane around the spacious room. "This was the throne of my reign for fifteen years," Edward said with a chuckle. "I'm sure going to miss it. But retirement is good work where you can get it, Allan?" Lamont elbowed the soon-to-be headmaster, who just looked at him blandly.<p>

"It's a very nice office, Edward," Allan said. He kept eyeing the desk chair with itching anticipation. Soon, he would be seated behind that antique mahogany desk, carrying out his plans for Dalton Academy.

"It sure is," Edward said as his eyes misted over. He seemed to wax nostalgic for a minute before regaining his composure. He cleared his throat. "Well, I'd better be off." Edward turned to shake hands with Allan. "I certainly hope you enjoy your time here as headmaster of Dalton Academy, Allan. It truly is a great school to look after. And I know I can rest in my retirement knowing that it was left in good hands." Edward headed towards the door, taking his coat and hat off the rack by the entrance. He opened the door and was just about to leave when he stuck his head back into the door, taking one last look at his old office. "Oh, and Allan?"

Allan Kane turned to face the old headmaster. "Yes, Edward?"

"Take care of the kids, will you? High school is a tough time in every boy's life. Just be there for them when they need you. They can use all the guidance they can get." Allan nodded slowly, and watched as the old headmaster disappeared, closing the door behind him.

Allan looked out the window amongst the grounds of Dalton Academy. The school was just as beautiful and picturesque as when he had attended it some forty years before. He watched as boys wearing the familiar uniform walked to and fro across the campus grounds. They laughed, they smiled, they seemed genuinely happy to be there. For a minute, he almost wanted to smile, conjuring up the fond early memories from his school days.

But he couldn't. He remembered how quickly he had fallen from grace at Dalton. He remembered all those professors who said that he wasn't cut out for education. He had been referred to as a "wild-child," a "social outcast," and a "juvenile delinquent" while attending the so-called "distinguished" Dalton Academy. So he had gotten into a little trouble, did that cause the faculty to immediately pen him using such vile terminology? The cursed memories caused his blood to boil and his face to get hot.

He looked out the window once more, watching the boys laughing and smiling at one another and was filled with hatred and contempt. _Smile while you can, gentlemen_, he thought to himself. _Things are going to change drastically around here_.

Allan was startled when his secretary, Ivy Caplesmith, walked into the room without knocking. She was a middle-aged woman who was of busty build. "Are you quite comfortable, Headmaster?" she asked, softly. _Headmaster_. The feeling of authority and power that came with that title caused the man to shiver in delight. "Is there anything I can do for you? What is your first line of business?"

Allan Kane took a seat behind the mahogany desk and folded his hands. "Well, Ms. Caplesmith," he began with a put-on, charming smile. "I think it's high time that some changes were made around here, don't you?"

**To be continued…**


	3. An Apparition

**Hey guys! Sorry for a bit of a delay. A lot of things have been happening over the course of the past three or four days, but here is the third chapter of my story. I would appreciate any and all feedback! Enjoy! **

The eleventh hour had arrived. The Main Hall clock tower counted out the hours in bell tolls. The grounds of Dalton Academy were veiled in a thin mist and were completely devoid of life at this hour. The faculty had set a strict curfew of 11pm, no exceptions. Any students caught outside of their respective dormitories would face suspension.

Of course, this was of no concern for the Sons of Ignatius Dalton. To them, the possibility of being caught mixed with the vague threats of suspension were part of the thrill of escaping at night to assemble in an old, abandoned gothic church on the north side of the campus to conduct their meetings. They would travel in small packs and sneak across campus to avoid any unwanted attention. Group by group, they'd race across campus swiftly and silently as ghosts. The Warblers were well-concealed in their black cloaks so in the event that anyone did catch them, they would be hard to spot from a distance.

Sure, this system may have worked for the glee club before, but Kurt was still skeptical, which was exactly why he crept from building to building like a convict trying to escape from prison. He was on the lookout for any other movement in the mist. With his hood up and his cloak flowing in the chilly air like a flag, he felt like someone that had stepped out of a _Harry Potter_ novel.

Kurt crept to the front of the Main Hall, where he took refuge behind one of the enormous Doric columns at the old building's front entrance. He scanned the grounds for Blaine, but saw neither hide nor hair of anyone. He hugged himself to stay warm as the autumn air held an extra chill this particular evening. All was silent, and for a minute, he felt like the only living soul left in the world.

Kurt's thoughts were interrupted when two things occurred. First, he could feel the static-like sensation of the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, giving him the impression that he was being watched. Second, he heard the snap of a twig as if someone or something had stepped on it. A sweat broke out on his forehead as his heart started pounding like a drum. Had he been caught by a faculty member? Slowly, gingerly, he turned in the direction of the snap.

There was no one or nothing else on the entire grounds.

_Okay, this is definitely a little creepy_, Kurt thought to himself. _Where the hell is Blaine?_ He turned back to face the doors, but practically snapped his head when he heard the unmistakable ruffle of another cloak. This time, he called out in a whisper. "_Blaine_! Is that you?" There was no reply. "If this is some kind of jump-scare joke, I just might kill you!" He crept to the edge of the stairs, looking both left and right. There was still no sign of anyone. He looked out along the grounds…

…And that's when he saw something.

There was a tall figure that emerged seemingly out of nowhere in the mist. It couldn't have been more than a hundred feet away from where Kurt stood. It was a mere silhouette at first, but as it walked slowly closer to the Main Hall, it appeared to be a man. Kurt stared in horror, and thinking it to be a teacher, he bolted in the opposite direction. He didn't know if the man called out to him or even pursued him, but he ran as fast as his legs would carry him. _I will not get suspended! I will NOT get suspended!_ he shouted in his thoughts.

A strong hand appeared out of the mist and grabbed Kurt by the arm. He was about to scream, but was silenced by a shrill whisper. "Shh! Kurt, it's okay! It's me!" Even in a whisper, Kurt could recognize Blaine's voice. Without thinking, he immediately turned and gave the boy a hug, leaving Blaine dumbfounded. "It's just me, Kurt," he said with a smile and awkwardly patted him on the back for good measure.

Kurt disengaged from the embrace and frantically pointed towards the Main Hall. "There's a man out on the grounds! I think he was a faculty member! Do you think he saw us? I don't want to get into trouble! What if I get suspend-?"

"Kurt!" Blaine interrupted and looked apologetic. He looked towards the Main Hall. "There's no one there now. Are you sure it wasn't just a trick of the light or something?"

"No, it was a man! I saw him walking through the mist. He was heading right towards me!"

The good-looking boy pondered this information, though still looking slightly skeptical. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. I mean, if he were out looking for any students, he definitely would have followed you when you ran." Blaine looked around. "Still, I don't want to take any chances. Let's head over to the church." He offered his hand, and Kurt was inwardly startled by the gesture. "Let's go," Blaine said with a grin. "I don't want you getting lost."

Kurt returned with what felt like an awkward smile and put his hand in Blaine's. It was warm and comforting and soft. When the two started running in the direction of the old church, Kurt imagined that they might as well have been flying. All the while, he looked at Blaine through the corner of his eye. _What are you trying to tell me_?

**To be continued…**


	4. Dark Clouds

**Hey guys! I apologize for the delay with this, the fourth chapter in my somewhat epic story! It's been a long week, and I've been kind of brainstorming ideas as to where I want this story to go. Again, please feel free to comment. Any and all feedback is welcome!**

The full moon broke through the fog like a silent vessel on a cool, icy sea. Its light spilled through the broken windows of the old church, bathing the entire sanctuary in a milky blue glow. In the center aisle, a group of hooded black figures stood in a circle surrounding the caged Pavarotti. A sort of chanting could be heard. A beat-box tempo had been set by one of the Warblers and was now being followed up by a variety of backing vocals, creating a mixed yet beautifully harmonized sound. Blaine improvised funky gospel notes, causing others in the group to smile. Everyone had agreed long ago that he had the most heart and soul in the whole glee club.

All were present with the exception of Wes. None of the Warblers found this odd, though, as he usually ran late to the Sons' meetings. He always prepared the criteria for their meetings last-minute, so being tardy was almost expected. Therefore, it was always David or Thad who started the Warblers off in the right direction.

Kurt took a look around the circle as the community sing continued softly. He had decided to scat like Ella Fitzgerald, and had noticed just how well his scat singing and Blaine's gospel notes blended together. The boys caught each other's eyes on countless occasions during the song circle, and while Kurt would continue to stare, Blaine would always return with a smile, signaling that he and Kurt were on par with each other. How this tiny gesture made his heart skip a few beats.

After a good ten minutes, the tempo gradually slowed, and the last notes were sung. Blaine ended with an incredibly soulful gospel vibrato that gathered applause and cheers from the glee clubbers. He gave Kurt a wink before seating himself in one of the dusty old pews near the front row of the church.

It was Thad Martinez who approached the altar. Kurt sat up excitedly. He was curious to see how this secret society worked, and was interested in learning about the kinds of activities that took place within it. The senior councilmember stood overlooking the "congregation" spread out before him and was just about to speak when Wes, sure enough, came bursting through the old oak front doors. He was running.

"Warblers! Call to order! Call to order quickly!" Wes stumbled down the aisle as the boys gathered around him. Kurt shot Blaine a bewildered look, which was mirrored by the other boy.

Thad and David approached Wes with concern in their eyes. "What is it, Wes?" Thad asked in a shaky voice. "What's going on?"

Wes looked up at the boys surrounding him. "Headmaster Lamont is gone! He's been replaced by a new guy!"

* * *

><p>"I just don't get it. Why would Headmaster Lamont just up and leave with no fanfare?" Blaine said, shaking his head, as a new headmaster approached the podium to speak at the assembly the following morning.<p>

"He was in charge of Dalton Academy for fifteen years! He's got quite a bit of tenure by now," whispered Jeff Honeycutt, a tall, thin, platinum-blonde Warbler whom Kurt had met at his first meeting with the resident glee club. "There is no way he'd leave without a word unless it was something truly serious."

Nick Corwin, a dark-haired Warbler with bangs, nodded vigorously. "It definitely could have been a medical condition that he just didn't feel like addressing to the students." He leaned forward to divulge a secret to the other boys. "I heard he has gas problems. That explains why his office was always decked out in air-fresheners." The boys smirked, with the exception of Kurt. He simply rolled his eyes in their general direction as the new headmaster cleared his throat to speak.

"Good morning students of Dalton Academy," the new headmaster began. "It is with great pride that I present myself as your new headmaster. My name is Allan Kane, and I look forward to my time here at the Academy. However, it is important that we do not overlook Headmaster Lamont and the legacy he left behind. I regret to inform you that your beloved Headmaster Lamont has retired. He feared that addressing this publicly would be too emotional for him, as he had come to know and love this school and everyone who inhabits it."

The new headmaster lowered his head dramatically for a moment before he continued. Kurt could not help but sense a tiny hint of insincerity in Headmaster Kane's delivery of the speech.

"On another note, Headmaster Lamont has informed me that Dalton Academy's ranks in terms of test scores and educational performance have been outstanding in the past decade. Now, as your new headmaster, I would like to see to it that it stays that way. My main focus is discipline, and I would not want to disrupt the excellence that Headmaster Lamont worked so hard to create." He paused, giving a cautionary look around the assembly hall. "We cannot let our educational standing falter due to lack of interest and carelessness. It is absolutely crucial that we focus on our studies and a hard-work ethic, and I am willing to remind the students of these principles using any means possible." The new headmaster had an angry yet sinister look on his face as his gaze swept over the sea of navy blue blazers. Even some of the teachers sensed the discomfort in the room.

Kurt shifted in his seat, catching Blaine's attention. The boy simply reached out his hand, and placed it over Kurt's, a gesture that caused him to look up, in surprise, into those honey golden eyes. Blaine simply smiled, and his eyes communicated, quite clearly: _Everything's going to be okay_. Kurt responded with an anxious, breathy chuckle and gently patted the other boy's hand.

Kurt was sure this latest sign of affection had to mean that Blaine was at least somewhat interested in him. But again, when someone as gifted in flirtation as Santana couldn't even read the signals, what was a novice like Kurt Hummel supposed to do? He inwardly sighed. _That's it_, he thought to himself. _I think I'm going to have to have a little talk with you, Blaine_…

**To be continued…**


	5. Records and Rituals

**Hi guys! I've been receiving a lot of e-mails saying that my story has been added to a lot of "story alert" lists. To all those who are following this story: You are more than kind. I thank you so much for bearing with me as I come up with more Kurt and Blaine craziness! Anywho, here is the fifth chapter of **_**The Sons of Ignatius Dalton**_**. Things are picking up, I promise! Again, any and all feedback is welcome! **

Kurt woke with a start, after having a vivid, terrible dream regarding Headmaster Kane. No matter what anyone said, there was something about the new headmaster that was quite unsettling. It was then that Kurt realized that his face was pressed against page 14 of his geometry book and that he was seated at his desk. He took a look around his dormitory room. _I must have fallen asleep doing geometry_, he thought. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up, cracking his back with a loud snap. He didn't know how long he'd been asleep. The window showed darkness outside, and a soft pitter-patter on the glass told him that it was raining. Kurt smiled to himself. He loved the rain. It calmed and soothed him. He gently closed the geometry book and was greeted by a knock on the door.

"Come in," Kurt said, fixing his hair and clothes, thinking it could be Blaine.

His heart sank. It was Jeff Honeycutt. The blonde Warbler entered the room carrying an antique Victrola phonograph, the kind one cranks in order to get the turntable spinning. Also, under his arm, were a bunch of records in sleeves. "Hey, Kurt! Sorry to bother you, but would you mind if I kept this in here for a while?" He indicated the phonograph and records. "It's an antique, and Thad's been acting dangerously sneaky lately. He's quite the prankster, and if he ever laid a finger on this…"

Kurt chuckled at the blonde boy's obvious scorn. "Of course! Just put it on the bed for now. We'll find a place for it later."

Jeff looked relieved. "Thanks so much, Kurt!" He plopped the phonograph on the bed while Kurt marveled at the beautifully crafted device. "Where did you get that? Is it yours?"

Jeff smiled. "Yep, it's mine! Isn't it a beauty?" The tall boy's hand caressed the signature Victrola horn. "My grandfather willed it to me after he passed away. He said that he always thought my love of music would eventually pay off, so he figured I'd get the most use out of it. Do you want to see how it works?"

"Sure!" Kurt replied excitedly. He had always wanted to own an antique phonograph. Plus, if he had to choose between doing geometry or listening to music on an old record player, he most certainly would prefer the latter.

The blonde Warbler removed a record from its sleeve and placed the black disc on the turntable. Kurt watched, fascinated, as the boy cranked until the handle could move no more. Then, he released a latch that caused the record to spin rapidly, and placed the stylus on the disc. The lovely, nostalgic, somewhat scratchy sound that issued from the horn sent excited shivers down Kurt's spine. Swing music filled the room and Jeff laughed at Kurt's astonished expression.

"That's incredible! Your grandfather was the best for willing this to you!"

Jeff smiled. "Isn't it great? I'm very fortunate to have it!" The two were silent for a minute, listening to the record. It was Jeff who broke the silence. "Hey Kurt, can I ask you a personal question? I mean, I know we're just starting to get to know each other and everything, but I'm just curious."

Kurt turned to face the slender boy, his head tilted like a curious puppy. "Go ahead. Shoot."

Jeff shifted uncomfortably, looking as if he were about to ask a truly awkward question. "What's the deal with you and Blaine? I mean, are you guys just friends? 'Cause it seems pretty obvious that you like him."

Kurt felt his face redden, and the music melted into noise in the background. Jeff was the first person outside of his immediate circle of friends back at McKinley High to address the issue of his interest in Blaine. Kurt gulped before he finally spoke. When he did, his mouth felt dry and parched. "We're just friends."

"I know, but do you like him? I only ask because every time I see you two, you both look so…" Jeff paused, thinking of the right word to use. "…Inseparable."

Kurt wanted to burst into tears. If Jeff only knew the pain and suffering he was going through! He had to endure all the mixed signals on Blaine's end. What did they mean? He had heard on _Dr. Phil_, ("I had the flu and there was nothing else on television," he told Mercedes once when he confessed he'd seen the show,) that keeping everything hidden inside was a one-way ticket to emotional self-destruction.

Not wanting to emotionally self-destruct, a frazzled Kurt turned to Jeff and began speaking rapidly. "Okay, okay! I like him! A lot! But it's so damn difficult, you know? He has this naturally flirty personality that makes him so attractive and alluring. But no one, and I mean no one, can decipher his signs. Is he doing it because he actually likes me, or is he just simply a flirtatious, charming person who has the magic ability to make anybody fall for him?" Kurt stared at Jeff, waiting for a response. The blonde Warbler looked surprised at the sudden outburst. Kurt gently massaged his temples as he sat down on the edge of his bed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to inundate you with my stupid personal thoughts."

Jeff took a seat next to him. "Hey, it's alright. We've all been there before." He patted Kurt on the back, his attempt at a comforting gesture. "You want to know the truth? Wes is experiencing it right now. There's this girl over at out sister school, Crawford Country Day, that he's been in love with for forever. They met at a speech and debate tournament about a year-and-a-half ago, and she has been torturing him with mixed signals. He wants to tell her how he feels, but he's afraid of losing her. We've all told him to just do it, but he won't listen to us."

Kurt was amazed. Wes had this truly calm, laid-back persona. He was strong and sure as a councilmember of the Warblers and as leader of the Sons of Ignatius Dalton. It was hard to imagine that he was inwardly suffering, torturing himself for another who may or may not share his affections. He felt truly awful for Wes. He knew exactly what he was going through.

Jeff continued to speak. "If you want my honest advice, I'd say go for it. Talk to Blaine and see what comes of it. You never know. He just might feel the same way. Don't worry yourself too much about it." He rose and headed for the door. "Oh, and Kurt? If you ever need to talk, just know that I'm here to listen." He smiled as he closed the door behind him.

Kurt took a deep, shaky breath as he pondered all that Jeff had told him. "Well, I think I've made a new friend," he said to himself with a chuckle.

* * *

><p>As the rain fell heavy outside the church walls, the Warblers stood in the center of the marble floor. Lit only by candlelight, the cloaked figures cast long, haunting shadows that danced upon the ceiling. In the middle of their circle was Pavarotti, perched in his gilded cage. The tiny bird kept chirping repeatedly and flapping his wings, behavior that Joe Holden, one of the beat-boxing Warblers, swore meant that something bad was about to happen. The other Warblers looked on in concern.<p>

Wes approached the center of the circle and carefully picked up the caged Pavarotti. He cooed and whistled to try and console the hapless creature. "Brothers," he began with a grave tone. "I think I speak for all of us when I say that we are faced with an emerging crisis here. Joe, our resident ornithologist, has informed us that Pavarotti's behavior signifies that something bad is about to go down." The boys nodded in agreement. "The canary knows all!" Everyone nodded as Joe cried out in a shaky voice. Kurt felt, internally, that perhaps they were overreacting, but he was still contemplating the thoughts he had about the new headmaster. _There_ was something worth worrying about.

Kurt was blessed (or cursed, in some situations) with a sort of sixth sense. He could tell when something monumental was about to occur, be it malevolent or benign. After the assembly that morning, he knew that Headmaster Kane was definitely a malevolent factor. He couldn't specifically explain what it was, but there was something about the man that just rubbed him the wrong way. Blaine even could tell that something was troubling the boy, but Kurt refused to divulge any information when asked.

Kurt turned away from his thoughts and faced Wes, who was looking extremely concerned. "Brothers, let us now face this drastic situation head-on. If Pavarotti suspects danger or trouble afoot, then we must do everything in our power to dispel it. We must clear it from our thoughts, empty it from our hearts, and drive it away from Dalton Academy." At this, Wes gently placed the caged canary on the pulpit. The candlelight flickered across his face, illuminating the look of sorrow that now showed. It was then that Wes let out a loud, passionate cry toward the heavens, causing all the Warblers to jump. He immediately began running around the pews of the old church, singing and crying out with joy and rapture. Kurt and Blaine exchanged surprised and confused glances as they watched the spectacle unfold before their eyes. The other boys smiled uncomfortably until Wes called out to them. "Help me purify this sacred space! Join me, brothers, in ridding Dalton of these wretched downer thoughts!" The boys cheered and immediately began to follow his lead.

Kurt and Blaine were left standing, dumbfounded for a moment. "Do you always perform these rituals?" Kurt asked, laughing at Blaine's expression.

Blaine laughed in response. "No, this one's new, but I think it best if we partake!" He took Kurt by the hand, causing the boy's heart rate to increase, and the two began to run around the church. The hallowed hall was filled with the joyous calls, screams and notes of the Sons of Ignatius Dalton, as their shadows performed savage dances on the ceiling, mimicking the exuberance of the ones below.

Kurt and Blaine could not stop laughing from pure bliss. For Kurt, it was as if time had slowed down. For a minute, all sound seemed to cease. He saw Blaine turn towards him and smile. In that almost intimate moment, it was as if Kurt were seeing him for the first time. He noticed the laugh lines on the corner of Blaine's eyes and just how bright his smile was. In the dim candlelight, the honey gold of his eyes seemed to sparkle like amber. Kurt felt breathless, and he knew it wasn't because of the running. The thoughts and emotions hit him like a cannonball to the chest. _Oh my god_, the boy thought to himself. _I think I just fell for Blaine_…

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, outside the old church, Headmaster Kane watched as the gothic windows glowed dimly in the night. A small sneer slithered across his face as he turned and headed back to the Main Hall. He chuckled wickedly to himself. His first order of business in the morning: to publicly reprimand the Warblers for breaking their curfew.<p>

**To be continued…**


	6. Lost and Found

**Hey everyone! Thank you all for your nice comments (on here and various pages on Facebook)! I truly appreciate your following of my story. Anyway, here is the sixth chapter. It is a little long, but I got so wrapped up in it! I was excited while writing it, if that makes any sense. Hopefully it turned out alright. I appreciate all your support and feedback! Enjoy! **

The Warblers stood in front of Headmaster Kane's desk. They had been summoned at the crack of dawn. As the throaty voice of the Headmaster Kane bellowed over the speaker systems around the school, the blood froze in their veins. For some reason, they knew that they must have been caught the night before.

The boys stood in the headmaster's office, waiting for his return. The silence in the room was deafening and the tension was so thick, it could be cut with a knife. Wes stared calmly into space. Jeff kept rubbing his hands together in nervousness. Nick shook his bangs out of his eyes so often that it almost seemed like he'd developed a strange tick. Thad was clutching the necklace of the Virgen de Guadalupe he wore around his neck and was mouthing a silent prayer. David repeatedly clicked his tongue. Blaine paced back and forth on the sidelines. All of the other boys seemed preoccupied with keeping themselves calm.

Only Kurt was seated on one of the comfortable leather sofas in the office. He wasn't so much worried about the consequences of their actions as he was about the headmaster himself. What would he do? Would he shout and yell like a madman, or we he be the more conniving, cunning type? Maybe he was the kind that liked to instill strange mental anguish and torment. Chinese water torture? No, that would be absurd! The new headmaster could never get away with such things. It was illegal to bring any harm to students. But what would they say? How could they come up with something completely convincing without giving away the existence of the Sons of Ignatius Dalton?

Despite his attempt at consoling himself from his wild and farfetched thoughts, Kurt was still inwardly going crazy. Maybe the wait was the torture, and when Headmaster Kane finally arrived, the punishment would not be quite as severe as they'd feared.

All air disappeared from the room when the door opened, revealing the slight, slender frame of Headmaster Kane.

Seeing him in the natural light from the window made Kurt's flesh crawl. For a man of sixty-something, he had awful skin. It was taut and pocked like old leather, and there were moles with strange hairy spots that emerged from them all over his neck and balding scalp. These indicated to Kurt a lack of skincare products and too much sun exposure. _Note to self: Always wear sunscreen_, he thought to himself as the headmaster took a seat behind his desk.

Kurt could swear he heard all of the Warblers' collected rapid heart rates as Headmaster Kane folded his hands and sat for a moment looking from one end of the group to the other. "Well, gentlemen," he began, peering at them through his thin spectacles. "Unless there is some unknown religious ceremony that I do not know about, would any of you care to tell me what you were doing in the old church last night?"

Nick gulped, quite loud, actually. Jeff swiftly placed his hand on the boy's back and patted him as a gesture of friendly comfort. When no one spoke, David decided to reply. "It was an emergency meeting, sir," he said, his voice only minutely shaky. Kurt and Blaine gave a side glance to each other, both thinking that David was doing all he could to keep his voice from breaking.

Allan Kane sat back in his swivel chair with a squeak. "An emergency meeting, you say?"

"Yes, sir," Thad replied, stepping forward. "You see, sir, Sectionals are coming up, and we didn't have as much time as we'd liked to rehearse yesterday during the lunch hour, so we planned a meeting in the old church last night to better prepare for the competition. However, looking back on it, we didn't think of the consequences regarding the curfew. We were so wrapped up in our work that we didn't even consider it twice. It was very foolish, sir, and we're deeply sorry for our actions."

Kurt marveled at how convincing the lie sounded. His head turned slightly to make contact with Blaine. Blaine's face remained stoic, but his eyes said: _Let's hope this works!_

Headmaster Kane nodded slightly, his hands still folded. "I see. I know just how dedicated you Warblers are towards your craft." The boys nodded in approval. "Headmaster Lamont informed me of your talents and dedication, and I see now just how right he was. He was very proud of the glee club." Wes beamed with pride at the front of the group.

"Nonetheless, your lack of thought behind your decisions last night was completely irresponsible. Therefore…" He paused. Kurt shifted uncomfortably, knowing that the punishment was coming soon. _Please, please let it be something simple and harmless!_

"…You will all receive detention during the lunch period for the rest of the week. I consider this to be more than fair, don't you?" The Warblers nodded vigorously. Kurt almost wanted to squeal in delight at how easy they were getting off. _Perhaps this new headmaster isn't so bad after all_, Kurt thought to himself. "However, if I ever see you out and about after curfew again, I will not hesitate to see to it that you all be expelled." _Okay, maybe not_. Headmaster Kane leaned back in his swivel chair and let the heat of the last sentence linger in the stuffy air of the office. "Do I make myself clear?"

Once again, all the boys nodded in agreement. The headmaster looked them all over and plastered an awkward grin on his face. To Kurt, it seemed like the man was really trying to force himself to smile. "Good. Now, off you go, lads." He shooed them out of his office. Before the door closed, Kurt took one last look at the pitiful man who sat behind the desk, and could have sworn he saw a sneer on the headmaster's face.

* * *

><p>"This is where you will be serving your detention for the rest of the week," the old janitor said as the opened the door. He indicated an all-white room that, were it padded, would look like a cell in an asylum. The Warblers all filed into the room and took seats at the desks that were set up in neat, even rows. "The door will be locked from the inside, so there's absolutely no chance of you troublemakers escaping." The old man laughed. "You have a pleasant lunch hour, gents!" He laughed maniacally as he closed the door behind him.<p>

Kurt was the first to break the silence. He looked around the room before he spoke. "Well, that wasn't as bad as it could have been, right?" Some of the boys nodded while others just continued to stare into space. It was then that Wes rose from his seat and walked to the front of the room. Kurt watched as he heaved a heavy sigh. "Well gang, it looks like the Sons are officially disbanded."

The raucous that filled the room was a mix of exclamations, curse words, and groans. Wes held his hands up, almost in defense, and continued. "There is just no other way for us to organize! Our secret meeting place has been discovered, and Headmaster Kane will most definitely be beefing up the night watch now that we've been discovered lurking outside the grounds after curfew!" The shouts continued.

Blaine rose and, for the first time that Kurt had seen, looked angry. "This feels like such a cop-out!" The boys agreed, nodding. "Seriously, what would Ignatius Dalton say if he knew we were faced with this situation? Would he just tell us to quit? I seriously doubt that he would." He sat back down to the applause and cheers from his fellow Warblers.

"Blaine, while I appreciate your enthusiasm and your valid points, I just don't see how it's plausible," Wes said looking truly defeated. "Of course, this is not an end for the Warblers as a whole. We still have Sectionals to look forward to. And if we win Sectionals, then it's off to Regionals in the spring!" He tried to sound enthusiastic, but it was to no avail. The boys knew they were licked. The secret society that their predecessors had worked so hard to establish was faced with abandonment.

Kurt felt absolutely miserable. Since his arrival at Dalton Academy, the Warblers had made him feel truly welcome. For the first time in a long time, he knew what it felt like to be happy. He experienced trust and acceptance as a member of the Sons, and now, thanks to their snooping new headmaster, all of it was taken away.

He had to agree that Wes was right. There was nothing that could be done.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe it's over," Blaine said as he and Kurt walked over to their Latin class immediately following the lunch hour. "I've been a proud Warbler and Son since freshman year, Kurt! To be a part of both is a great honor, and to be one without the other makes me feel incomplete."<p>

Kurt nodded understandingly. It pained him to see how sad Blaine was. Since they'd met, Blaine had always appeared to be so strong and sure. He never seemed to let anyone or anything faze him. Seeing him so miserable made Kurt's heart sink. "I can't even begin to imagine how you feel," he said. "I mean, I'm devastated, and I've only been in the Sons for two weeks."

Blaine laughed sadly and sighed. "Well, I guess we should start looking forward to Sectionals, though I don't know how we'll be able to concentrate on the competition with this downer of a dark cloud hanging over us."

It was then that Kurt decided to do something bold. Seeing how sad Blaine looked, he turned to face the handsome boy. "Come here," Kurt said with a smile, his arms outstretched. "They say that hugs can cure almost anything." Blaine smiled softly in response and closed the gap between the two as he hugged Kurt back. The two held each other closely, with Kurt breathing in the sweet, intoxicating scent of Blaine's body. His heart began racing and he wished the moment would never end.

"Thank you, Kurt," Blaine said into the shoulder pad of Kurt's blazer. The two disengaged from the hug and stood facing each other. Blaine was close, too close, dangerously close to Kurt. As the two looked into each other's eyes for a moment, Kurt tried hard not to let any of his true feelings show, even though they were screaming out in his mind. He turned over all that Jeff had said the night before. He wanted to tell Blaine. He longed to get it all off his chest. But no, he couldn't. Not in this sorrowful moment, when they both were mourning the loss of their secret brotherhood.

Kurt's attention was pulled by something happening in the corner of his eye. He was somewhat relieved for the distraction. "Look." He pointed somewhere over Blaine's shoulder and the two turned to gaze at the sight before them.

A group of construction workers were boarding up the old church. The windows and front door were now almost completely covered by wooden planks. Kurt didn't know if Blaine noticed, but there, right amidst all the chaos of a construction site, was Headmaster Kane, pointing out imperfections and barking out orders to the workers. A shadow came over Kurt's face for a mere moment. "Come on, we'll be late for Latin," he said, still staring at the construction. Blaine tore his gaze from the workers and followed Kurt to their class.

* * *

><p>That night, Kurt sat awake in his bed. He stared at the ceiling, reflecting on the completely surreal day he and the Warblers had. <em>Well Kurt<em>, he thought. _You wanted a challenge, and boy did you ever get one!_ He sighed as he sat up. _Not only are your classes challenging, but you also face the daily challenge of dealing with an unruly headmaster_. _Oh, and let's not forget that you're head-over-heels in love with a guy who doesn't even know that you're suffering and spending every waking moment thinking of him!_ Kurt massaged his temples and tried to relax, though he knew it was hopeless. Truth be told, Dalton was the last place he wanted to be in that moment. He wanted to be with his friends at McKinley High. He missed them all. He missed Brittany and her random comments. He missed Artie and his kick-ass R&B solos. Hell, he even missed Rachel and her "anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better" attitude. He had transferred to Dalton Academy in the hopes that things would be better. So, why weren't they?

In his depression, Kurt noticed that there was a faint, flickering light spilling in through the bottom of the door. It almost appeared to be candlelight. The boy slipped into his warm, comfy slippers, silently crept to the door, and peeked down the hallway.

At the end of the long corridor, Kurt could see a man carrying what appeared to be an old kerosene lamp. This confused him, but nonetheless caught his interest as he began to walk down the hall towards the fellow. Somehow, as if sensing the boy's presence, the man turned and beckoned Kurt to follow. His blood froze and his heart started pounding. He feared that he had run into one of the new night watchmen that the headmaster had planted all over the grounds. He said a silent prayer as he proceeded down the hall to greet the man.

When he reached the end of the corridor, Kurt saw that the man was much older. The light from the kerosene lamp cast shadows on his face, accentuating the lines and wrinkles of someone who appeared to be in his 70s. He had gray, almost white hair and beard and icy blue eyes that were hidden behind round, gold wire-rimmed spectacles. One feature that Kurt found odd was his choice of clothing, for he was completely decked out from head to toe in a turn-of-the-century style suit. The look suited him, (no pun intended,) but it still completely baffled the boy.

The old man did not speak. He simply put his index finger to his lips, the universal gesture for silence, and proceeded down the stairs. Kurt, despite the fact that this man definitely seemed out-of-place at Dalton, received one of his sixth-sense feelings of intuition that told him to pay attention to whatever he needed to show him. Kurt hurriedly descended the staircase where the old man waited patiently. He smiled and beckoned the boy to continue following.

Soon, the duo had reached the dormitory common room. All three Dalton Academy dormitories had common rooms. The one in Kurt's building was a large, spacious room filled with mahogany furniture and cushy sofas. Paintings were hung on the walls, and there was even a large Medieval-style tapestry that depicted a unicorn covering a wall beside the fireplace. The old man pointed at the tapestry enthusiastically, and Kurt wondered what he was supposed to be seeing. He gingerly approached the tapestry, and pulled it aside with care. A solid wall greeted him. "It's just a wall," he said as he turned to the old man.

The old man shook his mane of white gray hair. He placed his hand on the left side of the wall, and sure enough, it opened, revealing a cold, dank hallway that was almost pitch-black had it not been for the kerosene lamp. Kurt's heart began to race excitedly. "How long has this been here?" he asked. The old man proceeded into the chamber and, once more, beckoned Kurt to follow. "Here I go," he said to himself, and entered.

After walking for what seemed an eternity, the two had reached the end of the chamber, where an old metal ladder led to a decrepit wooden trapdoor above them. The old man, brittle and fragile, began to ascend the ladder until he reached the top. Kurt peered through the open trapdoor above and noticed nothing that seemed even remotely familiar. Nonetheless, he climbed each rung with care until he stood on the solid marble floor of the old church.

Kurt's eyes widened at the realization. He turned to thank the old man, but he was nowhere to be seen. Exactly where the old man had stood was the kerosene lamp, still lit, and next to it was a bundle of rolled-up papers. A shiver ran down Kurt's spine, thinking the impossible. _Was he… Was he a ghost? _He shook off the crazy idea. _Never mind that now_, he thought. He walked over to the papers and unrolled them on the cool marble floor. In the dim light, Kurt noticed that they were floor plans of each of the three dormitory buildings. In blue ink, an arrow and caption had been written in each of the dormitories' common rooms. In beautifully written cursive words, Kurt read the caption aloud, for they were the same on all three floor plans: _Take this advice from a man way back when, my Sons will soon be together again!_ The boy reread the poem over and over until he couldn't see straight. He rolled up the floor plans and clutched them to his chest. "Thank you," he said softly, knowing precisely who the old man was, and knowing exactly what he had to do.

"It looks like the Sons of Ignatius Dalton are back," Kurt said with a grin.

**To be continued…**


	7. Filius Reverto

**Hey everybody! Once again, I have been receiving e-mails saying that my story has been added to many Fanfic users' "story alert" lists, and I just want to thank you for your support and interest in my crazy little tale here. I welcome all your feedback and commentary. Thank you so much, and enjoy! **

Blaine was doing all he could to create some semblance of order in the white room where the Warblers were serving their third consecutive day of lunch-hour detention. Poor Wes had essentially given up everything since the disbanding of the Sons. He hadn't eaten, he'd hardly slept, and he'd basically taken a private vow of silence, for unless he was directly addressed by one of his instructors, he said nothing. That's when Blaine had decided to take over. Somebody had to find a way to prepare them for Sectionals.

"Warblers, please!" he called out over the noise in the room. "I am merely suggesting that, instead of wearing our usual blue jackets with red piping, we wear black pin-stripe suits for the competition. The judges are always looking for something new and exciting, and I think breaking out of our element wouldn't do us any harm. Are there any objections?"

The Warblers stormed all over the room, creating a scene of surreal chaos as papers and sheet music flew everywhere. Blaine rolled his eyes and groaned at the pitiful sight of his fellow glee-clubbers gone mad. Trent Nixon, a tall and portly Warbler, stood up from his seat and shouted "This is a kangaroo court!" Trent always loved to use this phrase when things weren't going as he liked at meetings. He pointed an accusatory finger at Blaine who, succumbing to defeat, took a seat in the front row. _It's hopeless_, the boy thought to himself. "We are royally screwed for Sectionals," he finished aloud.

Jeff, who was seated at the desk to Blaine's right, tore himself from his laptop. "Well, think about it this way," he began. Blaine saw that the blonde Warbler was watching _A Very Potter Musical_ for what easily must have been the millionth time, for he always loved to quote the dialogue and spontaneously sing the lyrics to pepper any conversation. "We've got the first counter-tenor in, what is it? Thirty-five years? That gives us an advantage right there, don't you think?"

Blaine heaved a heavy sigh. "I guess you're right. Let's hope that the judges will be just as wowed by Kurt's pipes as we were when he auditioned." It was then that he realized something, and he frantically looked around the room. "By the way, where is Kurt?"

As if on cue, Kurt Hummel burst through the door, carrying his over-the-shoulder satchel and three long, rolled-up papers. Removing his large Holly Golightly (as he called them) sunglasses, he thoroughly scanned the room, watching the boys wreak havoc on the place. His boots crushed the sea of papers that littered the floor. Slowly, he took his place in front of the desk.

Blaine approached him. "Kurt, are you okay? Where have you been? I was worried that something had happened to you." Kurt inwardly smiled, touched by the boy's concern. Blaine gestured towards the Warblers. "I've been trying to get them to talk about Sectionals, but they just won't—"

"I've got an important announcement, Blaine! Have a seat. You won't want to miss this!" He smiled at the strapping boy, who gave him a confused look before sitting in one of the front row desks.

Kurt cleared his throat and shouted, "HEY, SHUT UP AND LISTEN!"

The boys froze, creating a series of hilarious vignettes as they looked up to see him standing at the front of the room. Wes, even, snapped out of his self-induced funk, surprised that Kurt could yell so loudly. Jeff was the only one who spoke. "Oh! Hey, Kurt!"

Kurt stifled a laugh and gave a little wave in return. He looked around the room, holding up the three folded-up floor plans, and gave a sly smile. "Guys, I hereby reconvene the Sons of Ignatius Dalton."

* * *

><p>The Warblers gathered around the table at the front of the room, closely surveying the floor plans and absorbing all that Kurt had just told them. They were ecstatic. The Sons of Ignatius Dalton would continue to gather, and even more clandestinely than before!<p>

Kurt indicated the floor plans like a general preparing the battle plan for his troops. "Remember, guys. The entrance to each tunnel is in your respective dormitory's common room. It's the wall that's covered with a tapestry, directly to the right of the fireplace. To open the door, gently place your hand on the left side of the wall." He waited for the boys to nod. "Each tunnel leads to a ladder at the end of the hallway. Take the ladder up, and you'll be smack dab in the middle of the old church. Are there any questions?"

David looked up and flashed his bright smile. "Kurt, you're a genius! How did you ever come about finding these things out?"

Kurt scratched his head, unsure of how to answer. He knew he couldn't tell them about the apparition of Ignatius Dalton's ghost. No one would believe him. "Let's just say that I went exploring last night." He had no idea that Blaine was shooting him a highly skeptical look somewhere to his far left.

Wes looked up from the floor plans. "Well Warblers, what do you say? Are we back in business tonight?" A loud, raucous cheer erupted in the middle of the room. The boys exchanged hugs and high-fives as they danced around the room excitedly, shouting "The Sons are back!" Kurt smiled to himself. He knew he'd done the right thing. Unbeknownst to him, Blaine stood in the corner of the room, watching Kurt suspiciously. _How did he get ahold of those floor plans?_ he thought to himself.

The Warblers were so swept up in their festivities that none of them saw Headmaster Kane and his secretary, Ivy Caplesmith, walk by, staring through the door at the sudden display of ecstasy and joy. "What the hell are they up to?" he asked as he turned to face Ivy with a puzzled expression on his face.

"The Warblers are known for their strange practices and rituals. This separates them from other glee clubs and show choirs." She paused, and added a hurried "Sir" when she received a stern glare from the headmaster.

Allan Kane turned away from the door with a wry chuckle. "Kids today, eh Ivy? Such behavior…" Ivy nodded and Allan rolled his eyes as the two proceeded to walk back to their office.

* * *

><p>Jeff's phonograph filled Kurt's room with the sweet, melodic sounds of Edith Piaf's voice as the two boys went over their Latin translations. Jeff always had trouble when it came to Latin class, and Kurt, being quite the linguistics expert, had been an obvious choice of someone the blonde Warbler could turn to for assistance and practice. Kurt had obliged, and the two were now reciting and translating various passages from the day's lessons. Kurt sat in tableau at his desk, while Jeff sat on the bed, next to the phonograph.<p>

"Okay, Jeff," Kurt said, looking in his book. "What if I told you '_Carpe diem_'?"

Jeff looked a little frazzled. "Um, let's see…" He scratched his head.

"Don't panic," Kurt replied, comfortingly. He paused for a moment, then thought of something. "Do you remember _Dead Poets Society_? You've seen it, right?" Jeff nodded. "Well, the teacher, played by Robin Williams, uses this expression all the time. Do you remember what it means?"

The boy thought deeply, racking his brain. He practically fell over when he thought of the answer. "Oh! '_Seize the day_'!"

Kurt smiled. "That's right!" He put the book down. "See? You aren't that hopeless."

Jeff laughed. "That was just dumb luck! The _Dead Poets Society_ clue helped a lot, though."

"Good. If that helps you on an exam, then keep it in mind." Kurt turned the page. "Moving on…"

Jeff interrupted. "Kurt, I've been meaning to ask you." He raised his eyebrows to new heights. "Have you talked to Blaine yet?"

Kurt's face turned a bright shade of crimson. In an attempt to change the subject, he began reading aloud from the Latin book. "'_Arma virumque cano…_'"

Jeff jumped off the bed, causing the record to skip. "Come on, out with it!" When Kurt turned away, Jeff realized. "You still haven't told him, have you?"

"Well, no…"

The other boy sighed. "Why haven't you? Has the right moment not come up?"

"No, it's not that," Kurt replied morosely, closing the book. "I had this horrible urge to tell him yesterday afternoon, but I just couldn't do it. Something kept holding me back."

"You've got to just let it all go, man," Jeff said. "Talk to him! Blaine's really understanding and a nice guy! Who knows? He just might like you back."

"Who'll like who back?"

Kurt and Jeff both froze as Blaine walked through the door. The handsome Warbler smiled. "Your door was unlocked, Kurt. I was about to knock, but I didn't think you guys would hear over the music and your conversation."

Jeff looked between Kurt and Blaine. "Well, I'd better be off!" He picked up his Latin book and said "Thanks for the help, Kurt!" before hurrying off. Kurt could have killed Jeff for leaving him there to fend for himself!

Blaine looked after the boy and chuckled. "What was that all about?"

"Beats me," Kurt said, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. The record had come to a stop, filling the room with deafening silence. He knew it was now or never. He had to tell Blaine how he felt about him. Keeping it locked up inside was no longer an option. "Look, Blaine…"

"Actually, Kurt, I came here to talk to you about something." Kurt's heart rate lowered a bit. _Good, he can go first_, he thought to himself as the strapping Warbler took a seat on his bed.

Blaine picked up the stylus from the still-spinning record and watched as the turntable took a few seconds to end its rotation. He licked his lips before he spoke. "How exactly did you get ahold of those floor plans?"

Kurt could feel the sweat break out on his forehead. "Oh, well they kind of fell into my hands…"

"How?" the boy asked, an intense look in his golden amber eyes. "Did someone give them to you?"

"N-no! It's not like that…" What was he going to tell Blaine, that a ghost had given him the floor plans? That was absurd! He would never believe that.

Blaine's eyes widened as he came to a shocking conclusion. "You didn't steal them, did you?"

It was Kurt's turn to be startled. "Steal? Blaine, I know we haven't known each other very long, but you should know better than to think that I'm a thief!"

"I'm not saying that you are! I just want to be sure you don't get yourself into any more trouble! We all almost got expelled the other day. Since you're new here, I just felt like making sure that you don't get into serious trouble."

"Whoa, hold on a minute. Since when have you been so protective of me? I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Kurt was even surprised at how harshly the words had escaped his lips. _Whoa_, he thought. _Why are you lashing out like this?_

Blaine looked hurt. "Fine, you know what? I'm sorry for caring so much." He stood up and headed for the door. "Those floor plans are historic and private documents that belong to Dalton Academy. Do you even know, especially with Allan Kane as our new headmaster, what the consequences would be for stealing them? Expulsion, Kurt! Then what? You'll go back to McKinley and end up getting killed by Karofsky?" He took a deep, calming breath. "But I guess you shouldn't worry. A strong, smart guy like you can take pretty damn good care of himself, can't he?" He slammed the door shut, leaving Kurt alone in the heated silence.

Tears welled up in his sea-blue eyes. It was all a misunderstanding. Perhaps he had lashed out at Blaine to simply avoid tackling the subject head-on. He could never tell anyone about the encounter he'd had with Ignatius Dalton's ghost. Who would have believed him? To make matters worse, he had postponed, once more, his chance to confess his feelings to Blaine. And now, the fact that the boy was angry with Kurt added further complications.

In a fit of rage, Kurt punched his pillow and sobbed quietly, his hands over his face.

* * *

><p>The Main Hall clock tower chimed eleven times in the distance. The Warblers stood in excited silence as they gathered into a semicircle within the confines of the now boarded up old church. They all had smiles and grins plastered on their faces. Kurt and Blaine were the only two not smiling. Kurt kept glancing up at Blaine, but the other boy always seemed to be staring blankly ahead. Kurt's heart sank.<p>

Wes appeared from the shadows carrying Pavarotti in his cage. "Brothers," he began in an intense whisper. "Tonight marks a most momentous occasion. Thanks to Kurt Hummel, the Sons of Ignatius Dalton have reconvened!"

There was a smattering of soft applause and pats on the back for Kurt. He sheepishly grinned. Blaine was still staring straight ahead.

"In honor of the Sons' glorious return to Dalton Academy, and for the unbreakable love and devotion that we Warblers continue to demonstrate in the name of Ignatius Dalton, I will now release Pavarotti from the confines of his cage. Tonight, we shall fly like him. Tonight, we will be like the birds! We will fly free! And nothing, not even a horrid new headmaster, is going to keep us from upholding our beloved tradition!" With a flourish, Wes opened the cage door. The tiny canary chirped happily as he flew towards the rafters and beams overhead.

The boys cheered and immediately began to sing as they circled the pews. The ancient hall of the church echoed with laughter and song. Amidst the circling and dancing of the Warblers, Kurt and Blaine were left standing in the dead-center of the old church. The two looked up and their eyes locked. For what felt like an eternity, the two stared at one another, speaking with their eyes all they wanted to say:

_Why can't you understand that I care about what happens to you, Kurt?_

_Damn it, Blaine! I'm in love with you! Why can't you just see that?_

Before either of them realized what was going on, their feet began to move upon their own volition and they were face-to-face. They both started talking at once, their words overlapping.

"I'm sorry, Kurt…"

"It was Ignatius Dalton."

Blaine's eyes widened, wanting to be absolutely sure he'd heard Kurt correctly. "What?"

Kurt closed his eyes and gulped. He knew he could trust Blaine with his secret. Whether he would believe it or not didn't matter anymore. He had to tell someone. "The ghost of Ignatius Dalton gave me the floor plans." Kurt immediately felt like an idiot for saying something that sounded so far-fetched, but he stood tall and unwavering. He knew it had happened, and that was all that mattered. "I know it sounds crazy, but I saw him."

Blaine looked directly into his eyes and gently patted his arm. "It's okay Kurt. I believe you." He gave the boy a small smile. "Because I've seen him, too."

Kurt's head snapped up as he gazed, awestruck, at Blaine.

**To be continued…**


	8. Love's Labor's Lost

**Hello everybody! I do hope my last chapter didn't put any of you off. It was, as a friend put it, a "filler chapter," and necessary, but a bit tedious. Still, the story goes on, and I promise this chapter to be much more interesting, albeit a bit sad. Nonetheless, please enjoy, and thank you so much for bearing with me this far! **

Kurt had to force himself to concentrate on his algebra exam the morning after the wild reunion of the Sons of Ignatius Dalton. His head was still swimming not just from the festivities, but from the whopper of a confession that Blaine had dropped at the meeting. So, he too had seen the ghost of Ignatius Dalton before. Kurt was still in absolute shock. How could it be? Maybe only a gifted few could see the man whose namesake graced the Warblers' secret society. Still, he was inwardly grateful that he wasn't the only one. It made him feel less crazy.

He decided to give his sore neck a quick break from the exam. As he sat back and stretched, he saw that Blaine was outside the window in the hallway, trying to get his attention. Kurt smiled and waved. Blaine mouthed _Meet me at the grand staircase after your test!_ He flashed his beautiful, radiant smile, and Kurt's heart skipped a beat.

"Mr. Hummel!" Mrs. Addison, the algebra teacher, gave him a stern look.

Kurt tore his attention from the window, embarrassed as Blaine ran, giggling, down the hall. She continued. "Need I remind you that you are taking an exam? I'm pretty certain Mr. Anderson does not have the answers."

Kurt could feel all eyes on him as his face reddened. "I'm sorry, ma'am." He proceeded to finish his test, but as everyone turned back to their papers, no one could see the grin he had on his face.

* * *

><p>When Kurt found Blaine, the handsome boy was seated at the foot of the stairs, finishing a pumpkin muffin. "Hey, Ghostbuster," Blaine mused, giving him a wink.<p>

"You should talk," Kurt chuckled, giving him an affectionate sock on the arm. Blaine laughed.

"So, how'd your algebra exam go?"

"Ugh, I'd rather not think about it," Kurt replied. "It's not that I think I did poorly, it's just that I hate math." Blaine nodded, knowingly. The two boys were excellent with grammar and vocabulary and loved words, but they shared a mutual hatred of any math more complicated than simple arithmetic.

"I hear that," Blaine replied with a shudder. He shook it off, and turned to face Kurt. "Do you… Want to go somewhere? I mean, now that you're done with your test, I just thought maybe you'd like to unwind."

Kurt was so startled by the question that he almost thought he'd imagined it. "Um… Sure!" He did his best not to sound too overly excited.

Blaine smiled and offered his hand. Kurt stared at it, blankly. "Come on," Blaine said with a gleam in his honey-gold eyes. "Let me take you to my fortress of solitude." Kurt gingerly took his hand.

They ran. Kurt was reminded of that very first day, when the New Directions had sent him to spy on the Warblers. He remembered running through the Baroque hall on the way to the senior commons. He recalled giving side glances to the handsome stranger who had been so kind as to show him around the grounds. He should have known right then and there that he could easily fall in love with Blaine. Of course, that flirty rendition of "Teenage Dream" certainly helped set the mood. Kurt inwardly sighed. _I'm like a modern Charlie Brown pining after a red-haired girl who may not ever love me back_.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he realized that they had stopped in front of a beautiful glass building. He didn't know what he was supposed to be seeing. He was about to ask, when Blaine held the front door open for him. He was always such a gentleman. "Thanks," he whispered as the two stepped inside. Kurt was dumbfounded by the sight that greeted him.

Tall, exotic plants and breathtaking flowers filled the scene with an intoxicating mix of pleasant aromas. On a brick walkway, directly in front of them, was a large stone fountain, complete with cherubs and other heavenly beings. Kurt followed Blaine to a beautiful lacy iron-work bench where the two took a seat. Kurt gazed awestruck at the scenery around him. He might as well have stepped into Wonderland.

"Are we still on campus?" Kurt could not help but ask.

Blaine laughed at the boy's obvious fascination. "I guess you didn't know that we have a botanical garden on the grounds."

Kurt marveled at the color that surrounded him. He indeed had no idea that such a place existed on campus. The botanical garden was like a splash of vibrant color amidst the gray canvas that was Dalton Academy.

A peaceful silence had come over the boys. It seemed a long while before Blaine spoke. "This is my fortress of solitude. I always come here when I need time to empty my head of all stress and problems." He paused for a moment before looking directly into Kurt's sea-blue eyes. "You're the first person I've ever brought here."

Kurt could feel his face flush. "Really? You mean no one else knows about your private place?"

"Well, they know about the botanical garden, but they don't know how often I come here and what it means to me. I've never shared this place with anyone else before. I brought you here because…" Blaine paused, trying to find the right words to say. "…You're the only other person in the Warblers and Sons who truly understands me. Out of all my friends, you're the only one who's always there for me no matter what." The boy gave him a small smile. "That and I thought you'd enjoy it too," he added quickly.

Kurt was on the verge of tears. They were the nicest, kindest words that anyone had ever said to him. He looked down as he spoke. "Wow, Blaine," he began while desperately trying to fight back the sobs that he knew were forming in his chest. "No one's ever said anything like that to me before."

"It's the truth," Blaine replied matter-of-factly. "The faculty at McKinley has no idea what they lost when you transferred, Kurt."

Kurt couldn't fight back anymore. His vision became blurred as the hot tears began to flow. Blaine scooted closer and hugged the sobbing boy, soothing him.

"I'm—I'm so sorry for crying like this," Kurt said through sobs.

"Don't apologize, Kurt," Blaine said softly. "It's better to let it all out."

_It's better to let it all out_. Kurt turned over the words in his head. Blaine, (and yes, even Dr. Phil,) was absolutely right. Concealing thoughts and emotions were the fast track to emotional self-destruction. Had it not been Blaine himself who had always told Kurt to have courage? His heart racing, he knew what he had to do. He was finally going to confess his feelings to Blaine. It was time to step up to the plate. _It's now or never_, he thought, his heart pounding.

Kurt disengaged from the embrace and wiped the stray tears away. He could feel the pair of golden brown eyes on him as he sat for a moment to regain his composure. "I didn't mean to get so emotional. It's just not that often that I hear nice things being said to me."

"Hey, don't apologize," Blaine said sternly. "I was merely speaking the truth."

Kurt beamed. "You're terribly sweet," he said, smiling. _This is it_, he thought. _Here I go_. "Blaine?"

Blaine turned to him and smiled. "Hmm?"

The boy felt as if all air had been sucked out of the room. Why was it becoming so difficult to breathe? Kurt's gaze darted from Blaine's eyes to his sensuous lips to his chiseled jaw. He gulped, the words had already formed in his mouth, but for some reason, they were just so difficult to say. "There's something I have to tell you."

Blaine sat up attentively, giving him his undivided attention.

"Look, Blaine, in regards to everything you just said to me, I think you're one of the nicest, sweetest people I've ever had the privilege of getting to know."

It was Blaine's turn to blush. He reddened slightly before Kurt continued. "Thanks, Kurt…"

Kurt held up a hand and smiled, signifying that he had to continue. "But, what I'm trying to say is…" He gulped. "…My feelings for you might run a little deeper than just friendship."

Blaine looked absolutely taken aback by Kurt laying his heart bare. He was completely dumbfounded. "Wow, Kurt. I…" He ran his fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair. "I didn't know you felt that way."

Kurt could not read anything from Blaine's expression. He would be the only man in the world whose expression was damn near impossible to read.

After a lull in the conversation that felt to Kurt like an eternity, Blaine spoke. "Listen, Kurt, I am really, truly touched that you feel that way about me, and you know that I deeply care about you, but…" _Uh oh, the dreaded 'but,' _Kurt thought. _Please don't tell me it will never be! _"…I'm actually, kind of, in the process of…" Blaine stammered, licking his lips. "…I'm seeing somebody."

The words hit Kurt square in the chest like emotional bullets. In the month-and-a-half that he had known Blaine, there was never any inkling, any hint, any sign that the handsome Warbler was romantically involved. On the contrary, he seemed to be completely unattached. Most of his free time was spent on conditioning his voice, practicing and building endurance for the next school or off-campus performance or competition. How did he even have time for a boyfriend, what with the workload at Dalton?

The only way Kurt felt relieved in this moment was that he had finally cleared his conscience regarding his feelings. Beyond that, he felt numb, even a little depressed. Still, he forced himself to be somewhat interested in the paramour that Blaine had referenced. "Who is he?"

Blaine could sense that Kurt was inwardly miserable and turned away. "His name's Jeremiah. He works at the Gap over at the North Hills Mall."

Kurt cursed internally. He had to have a poetic, pretty name like "Jeremiah." _Damn it!_ "How long have you two known each other?"

"Look, Kurt, we don't have to talk about it…"

"No, I want to know. I mean, if you're really uncomfortable talking about it, then we won't. But I'm just curious is all."

Blaine buried his face in his hands. "We met at the end of the summer. Nick Corwin was a having an end-of-summer pool party, and I accidentally spilled my virgin piña colada on this curly-haired boy's shirt. It turns out that he's a friend of one of Nick's friends. We struck up some conversation, exchanged numbers, and…" He stopped again, looking a little nervous and giving sympathetic glances at Kurt. "It just kind of went from there."

Kurt slowly nodded. "And you like him?"

Blaine shifted uncomfortably. "Kurt, please don't do this to yourself…"

"Do you like him?" Kurt was even a bit surprised at how forcefully the repeated question came out.

Blaine was quiet for a good ten seconds. It was as if he were truly considering his answer. Finally, he replied with a barely audible "Yes."

Kurt nodded, absolutely devastated. He had an important friend and ally in Blaine, but did he really have to go and fall in love with him to complicate matters? Kurt knew, however, that he couldn't help it. Blaine had irresistible charms and personality. Plus, as a bonus, he was very handsome. In Kurt's eyes, Blaine was the perfect man. But of course the perfect man had a boyfriend. Kurt felt like an idiot for not even considering this to be a possibility.

He rose from the iron-work bench, carrying his over-the-shoulder satchel. "Well, I guess I really should be going," he said softly as he stood up. The awkward silence continued. "See you, Blaine." He was about to leave when he felt a firm grip on his wrist.

"Kurt…"

He turned to face Blaine. There was something in his face that Kurt could not quite read. Was it desperation, or was it just deep sorrow? For a minute, it seemed like Blaine was fumbling with his conscience to say more than he originally intended.

Blaine just slowly nodded as he looked up into Kurt's sea-blue eyes, and managed a small "Thank you." Kurt returned with a sad smile as Blaine released his grip on his wrist.

Kurt remained stoic as he walked out of the botanical gardens. The minute he was outside the glass doors, he ran, sobbing, in the direction of his dormitory.

**To be continued…**


	9. Children of the Revolution

**Hello everybody! Once again, thank you so much for your continued patience and support of my crazy tale! In all honesty, I am just now starting to know what exactly I'd like to happen in the story. Still, I am glad and thankful for all your commentary and feedback. I never imagined that my story would even garner this much attention. From the bottom of my heart, I am eternally grateful to you all. The winds of change are beginning to stir in this chapter. Enjoy!**

The Monday following Thanksgiving break, Kurt awoke early in the morning to the rumble of loud conversation and shouts of outrage in his dormitory. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled groggily down the stairs and saw a cluster of students gathered around the doors of the common room. Some were still in their nightclothes while others were already dressed in their school uniforms, preparing for early-morning classes. From what he could see, the boys were gathered around a large flyer of some sort. As some of the students started to angrily disperse from the front lines, Kurt brushed forward and read the caption on the large piece of paper taped to the door:

**DUE TO A SLIGHT DROP ON YOUR MIDTERM TEST SCORES, ALL CLUBS, ORGANIZATIONS, AND EXTRA-CURRICULAR ACTIVITIES WILL BE HALTED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. IT IS FOR THE BEST THAT THIS BE DONE. A STRONG FOCUS ON DISCIPLINE AND STUDIES IS NEEDED SO THAT DALTON ACADEMY CAN MAINTAIN ITS STANDING AS ONE OF THE TOP SCHOOLS IN OHIO. –HEADMASTER KANE**

Kurt's eyes widened with shock and anger. "What the hell is he thinking?" He knew from the start that Headmaster Kane could not be trusted. More studying and discipline was necessary, yes, but to take away all other programs and activities was just plain ruthless.

Nick appeared in Kurt's line of vision. "Hey, Nick," he said, forcing himself to smile.

Nick shook his head. "Yeah, isn't it awful?" He gestured towards the flyer. "I can't believe this is happening! We have a holiday show in two weeks and Sectionals in January! He can't do this to us!"

"But he has," Jeff said, appearing at Kurt's left. He gave a slight nod of greeting to Kurt, and the three stood staring at their social life's death sentence. "There's no use in fighting it, guys. The marching band and speech-and-debate team have already gone to see the headmaster demanding explanations, and it's miraculous that Kane didn't expel them for resisting his new decree. What the hell are we going to do? The Warblers are everything to us!"

"Not to mention the Sons," Nick said in a whisper. "How will this affect us?"

As if on cue, Jeff felt his phone vibrate in his blazer's breast pocket. He produced the phone and read the text that he'd received. "It's from Wes." He leaned closer towards the other two boys, barely audible over all the raucous. "We've got an emergency meeting tonight at eleven. He has two angry face emoticons, so he means business." Both Kurt and Nick nodded vigorously in response.

The three looked at the flyer once more with hatred, venom, and scorn. Their chances at Sectionals had been taken away. Their voices had been silenced. They knew, of course, that these actions meant war.

* * *

><p>"How the hell are we going to get out of this?" Thad, for the first time in a long while, actually looked worried.<p>

Wes stood before the crowd of cloaked Warblers that were clustered in the pews as the Sons of Ignatius Dalton gathered for their emergency meeting that night. He chewed his lip in thought. Truth be told, he had no idea how the Warblers could continue due to the drastic circumstances they now faced. The old church was abuzz with an angry energy that could have easily set the wooden beams on fire.

Kurt sat with his hands folded in his lap, trying as best as he could not to scream. The day had been a total disaster. The new educational decree had set everyone off the wrong way. From then on, they were to be programmed, like robots, for nothing more than work and study. He simmered at the thought.

He found Blaine sitting in a pew at the opposite side of the church. His heart skipped a beat, for he had not seen Blaine all day and had not received any word from him since the botanical garden situation some five days before. He figured that the boy was doing all he could to avoid the awkwardness between the two. Despite his sorrow, Kurt was inwardly relieved that the handsome Warbler was indeed alright.

In regards to Blaine, Kurt found himself in a compromising situation. Speaking to Blaine would make his heart ache with yearning and desire. Not speaking to him simply broke his heart. _You're screwed either way_, he thought to himself.

"Brothers," Wes began, relatively calmly. "I know I speak for all of us when I say that we are faced with a terrible dilemma."

"Yeah, do you think?" Trent Nixon snapped while the other Warblers glared at him.

"Hey, knock it off, Trent," David said, angrily. "You're not the only one who had their glee club taken away from you, alright?"

The air in the room was charged with electricity. After a moment's silence, the portly Warbler shook his head. "You're right. I'm sorry guys, Wes," he said to the group. "It's just that… The Warblers and Sons have meant so much to me as long as I've been a student at this school. I feel like my entire livelihood is being taken away from me!" The group all gave sympathetic nods and voiced their agreement. Wes' head hung low.

Kurt stood up. He began yelling, his breaking point had been reached. "Enough! We are NOT just going to sit here and take this, are we?"

He received a series of puzzled glances before he continued. He even caught Blaine staring at him, shocked, from his corner of the room. "Look, if there's one thing I learned at McKinley High, it's that you have to stand up for yourself. When I was in the New Directions, we faced the constant threat of being disbanded and being removed from the school's list of clubs, organizations, and extracurricular activities. According to Principal Figgins, we weren't 'bringing in the revenue' like the sports teams. And what did we do? Did we cower in fear and succumb to defeat? Hell no! We showed the students and faculty at McKinley that we were worth a damn! We proved to them that glee club was just as important and necessary an extracurricular activity as the football team, cheer squad, or even the freaking baking club!"

He paused for a second, taking a breath and letting his words linger. "We rose from nothing and made something of ourselves! We started out with a measly five members our first semester, and by the end of that semester, we had more than doubled our membership and scored the big win at Sectionals! We pulled together! All I'm saying is, if we just give up and let Headmaster Kane silence us, then we're giving in to his unjust will. But if we rise to the occasion and challenge his authority, then we're proving that we're a force to be reckoned with. Lillian Adler, one of the greatest glee club coaches in McKinley High history, said that 'Glee is about opening yourself up to joy,' and I think it's high time we give Allan Kane a taste of how much joy and passion we've got!"

A stunned silence overtook the Warblers. Kurt, surprised at himself for his sudden outburst, took his seat. The quiet in the room was deafening. It wasn't until Jeff rose from his seat and began clapping that the other Warblers began to take his lead. They all began to chant "Hummel! Hummel!" They said it softly at first and escalated into a cacophony of sound. They proceeded to lift the boy onto their shoulders, reveling in all the inspirational words he spoke.

Wes called for order. He hated to be the naysayer and the one to break up all the exuberant joy that filled the old church. "Brothers, as eloquent and inspirational as Kurt's point may be, how are we supposed to carry on with the threat of expulsion staring us in the face? And this time, rest assured there will be no second chances. We already dodged a bullet with our breaking of the curfew. This time would surely mean the end for us."

The boys put Kurt down before he responded. He had a sly smile on his face. "Wes, indeed the Warblers are officially disbanded, but there's absolutely no rule that says a few or a group of us can't sing at any given time on campus grounds…" Kurt felt his eyebrows soar to new heights.

The Warblers gathered around him and nodded. They all seemed to be waiting for Wes' reaction.

Wes grinned like the Cheshire Cat. The room once more burst into loud, uproarious cheers as he called out over the melee: "Someone better tell Headmaster Kane that the Warblers aren't going anywhere!" The boys danced and skipped jubilantly around the sanctuary. Trent had launched into a spontaneous rendition of Aretha Franklin's "Think," with Jeff, Nick, David and Thad all belting out the "Freedom" chorus. In the midst of it all, Kurt and Blaine's eyes locked. Blaine simply gave Kurt a small smile and a tiny bow in approval of his motivational speech. Kurt nodded in return, expressionless, as Jeff swept him into the throng of cloaked boys.

* * *

><p>The rest of the week whizzed by much quicker than anyone anticipated it would. November gave way to December and, despite the air of misery that settled over the grounds of Dalton like an autumn mist, the Warblers felt a kind of heady rush of excitement whenever they walked the halls. For the first time in a long while, the Sons of Ignatius Dalton truly felt like they were an honest-to-goodness secret society. They had even created a body-language code at a subsequent Sons meeting: a hand through the hair meant "meeting tonight," a simple nod meant that everything was alright, and a handshakehug meant that something had gone horribly wrong and that an emergency meeting was absolutely necessary. Fortunately, in the week that had passed since Headmaster Kane's insane decree, five nods and a couple hands-through-the-hair had been the only signals used.

On a cold, snowy, blistery afternoon in early December, Kurt hummed along with Bing Crosby's "White Christmas" issuing from Jeff's phonograph as he decorated his dormitory's common room with holiday decorations. He was hanging some holly from the mantelpiece. When he was finished, he took a step back and surveyed his work. Satisfied, he smiled and proceeded to place two poinsettia plants on either side of the fireplace. As he went to fetch them from one of the cushy sofas, his eyes stopped on the mistletoe he'd hung over the doorway. His jaw began to quiver and his eyes stung, but he just shook it off and continued on to the poinsettias.

Kurt had not heard a word from Blaine the whole week. As it was, he'd scarcely seen him since the Sons' emergency meeting. The only class they shared was Latin, and even then, the two were assigned desks that were at completely opposite ends of the classroom. This silence and lack of communication was killing him. He had even texted Blaine a couple of times in the hopes that he'd receive a reply. There had been nothing. Heart broken, he tried his best to occupy himself with studies and just about anything he could imagine that could possibly alleviate the pain of Blaine's avoidance. Nothing helped, for even in something as simple as a piece of mistletoe, he was still reminded of the boy's gorgeous honey-gold eyes, charming smile, and contagious laugh.

As Kurt placed one of the poinsettias on the right side of the fireplace, he nearly jumped when someone spoke from the doorway. "Did you know that some people are allergic to poinsettias? I couldn't imagine. They're just so beautiful."

Kurt turned to face Blaine as he entered the common room, his hands in his pockets. He was taking in all the decorating. "It looks good," he said, softly. "I didn't know you were quite the interior decorator." He smiled, but Kurt's face remained stoic.

_What the hell_, Kurt thought. _I don't see or hear from you in about two weeks, and all of a sudden you just waltz in here and try to make small talk with me? _He could feel his blood simmer, and yet, as always, there was something in Blaine's eyes that soothed and calmed him. Still, he knew he had to hold his ground.

The two just remained standing there, looking at each other. Finally, Blaine said "Well, I guess you're probably busy. I'll get out of your hair." His smile faded as he turned towards the door.

"Blaine…"

The boy stopped, and Kurt watched as his shoulders dropped. They said a back could actually say quite a lot about a person, and Blaine's back was speaking volumes to Kurt. "What's going on?"

Blaine finally turned around, licking his lips nervously. "What are you talking about?"

"What's going on with us? What the hell happened? I don't hear from you or see you in about two weeks, and suddenly you just burst in here and, after some small talk, expect me to ignore the two weeks of your cold shoulder that I've been going through?"

Blaine hung his head low. "Kurt, I…"

"I thought we were friends, Blaine. I thought that, no matter what, we'd be there for each other. Even after I…" He stopped, not wanting to delve too much into his personal feelings. "…Said those things to you."

Blaine looked up at him with soft eyes that made Kurt's heart damn near melt. "You're right, Kurt. It was stupid of me to ignore you, and I'm really sorry about it. I just figured that, after I told you about Jeremiah, you'd think it'd be too awkward for us to be around each other, so I made the stupid decision of avoiding you completely. It was really selfish of me, and I'm really very sorry if I hurt you in any way."

Kurt looked up at Blaine and felt his eyes mist over. He hated himself for crying so much. He was just such an emotional person, and especially since he'd known Blaine, his emotions had been running on overdrive ever since. "I'm sorry," Kurt said, wiping the tears away. "God, you must think I'm such a terribly weak person."

Blaine looked appalled. "Are you kidding?" He walked up and gave the boy a big hug. "You're one of the strongest, bravest people I've ever known. What about the emergency meeting two weeks ago? I didn't know you had all that in you. It kind of made you a hero in my eyes."

Kurt swelled with pride. The fact that Blaine felt so highly of him made his heart burst. Still, he cracked a joke to ease any lingering tension between the two. "Please, Blaine. It was the right thing to do, although it did make me feel like a big, gay General Patton."

Both boys burst out laughing. They laughed until their stomachs hurt, collapsing on one of the cushy sofas. When the laughter died down, the two realized that their shoulders were touching and that they were both dangerously close. They looked at each other for what felt like a long time, longer than was deemed appropriate in the etiquette of staring.

"Well, I'd better leave you to your decorating," Blaine said as he rose from the sofa. "I fear I've proven to be too much of a distraction."

Kurt shook his head as he stood from the sofa. "Please, I welcome your company. Your being a distraction is at least a pleasant one." They smiled and walked over to the doorway.

"I'm sorry again for acting the way I did, Kurt," Blaine said, leaning against the doorframe.

Kurt shook his head. "Don't even worry about it. You were only doing what you thought was right." He gently patted Blaine's arm. "But it's behind us now." He held out his hand. "No weirdness?"

Blaine smiled and took his hand. "No weirdness," he said. The two shook hands, and Blaine looked up at the mistletoe hanging over the doorway. "Oh, mistletoe!" He pointed to the piece that hung over the two boys, and Kurt hoped and prayed that Blaine couldn't hear his heart racing from where he was standing.

A dreamy look appeared on Blaine's face. Before Kurt knew what was going on, Blaine closed the gap between them and gave the boy a kiss on the cheek. Kurt stared awestruck and felt his face burn as it blushed.

Blaine flashed his beautiful smile. "See you later, Kurt." He put his hands back in his pockets and Kurt watched as he walked away.

Kurt felt his knees weaken. His slid down the doorframe until he sat on the floor, his hand covering his mouth. He wanted to cry out in joy and jubilation. There was hope yet, of that Kurt was sure. If the kiss hadn't been an indicator of the handsome Warbler's interest in him, then something wasn't right. He rose to his feet with an extra bounce in his step and finished decorating the common room.

**To be continued…**


	10. With a Vengeance

**Hello everyone! Here is chapter ten of my little story. Thank you to everyone who has been kind enough to respond or add my tale to their story alert subscriptions. The fact that anybody is reading it at all is still amazing to me. There're some twists and turns in this chapter, but it turned out well. Not to get too personal, but I am basing Kurt's feelings for Blaine on my own personal experience. I am currently going through an unrequited love situation right now, and the ideas hit me when my friend compared me and the guy that I like to Kurt and Blaine. Anyway, enough sadness! Please enjoy! Once again, I appreciate all feedback and commentary! Oh, and Happy Independence Day (if you're American and reading this!) :)**

Allan Kane watched as the snow fell outside his office window. It blanketed the grounds of Dalton Academy in stark white. He smiled at the dismal, yet beautiful, sight of it. He was also smiling because his plans for the school were really starting to pay off.

Yes, the students had put up quite a fight when he passed his ordinance to disband all clubs and organizations, but he had to put his foot down. The boys had to be kept in their place and had a duty to maintain Dalton's reputation as one of Ohio's top schools. They were just too young, naïve, and foolish to comprehend such matters. What kind of headmaster would he be if he let the students run wild and be impulsive, allowing them to let their grades slip?

Allan shook the thoughts from his mind as he concentrated once more on the snow. He almost felt the pangs of nostalgia, remembering the times he'd played in the snow as a student forty years before. However, his pleasant memories were interrupted when he remembered an incident that had occurred on a particularly icy cold school day, much like the one that was unfolding outside his window.

_Sixteen-year-old Allan is building a snowman under the shelter of an old oak tree. It is lunch hour. He likes to be alone, seeing as no one wants to be his friend anyway. He spends his time on cold winter days imagining strange, whimsical things. His snowman is almost complete, the only touch missing are the stones for eyes. _

_But the snowman in its short life will be forever blind._

_An unruly and relentless group of junior and senior boys are making their way across the grounds. They are led by George Anderson, a brown-haired boy who is one of the top students at Dalton Academy and star quarterback of the football team. Even on this cold, frosty afternoon, they are out looking for trouble. They are excited to find sport in little Allan Kane, the sophomore freak who no one likes or understands._

_Allan's in search of stones for his snowman's eyes when the gigantic George approaches. "Hey, little shrimp!" He flashes his sickening grin as Allan cowers in fear. "What are you making there?"_

_"Leave me alone," Allan says softly but coldly. There's a collective chuckle from the group._

_"Hey, looks like Kane's making himself some friends out of snow!" One of the other boys pokes the snowman in the side, leaving an indentation where his finger had been. The boys laugh maniacally._

_George looks down at the small boy and flashes an evil grin. "They'll be the only friends that you ever have." With a swift kick, the snowman implodes. Allan watches in horror as George tramples the last of the snowman into the ground. _

_"You…! YOU…!" Allan sputters in anger and hatred as he lunges for George, but the other boys grab ahold of him and toss him head first into the pile of snow. They howl and cackle as the runt attempts to struggle to his feet._

_"See you later, freak!" George and the other boys laugh like rabid hyenas as they head back towards the Main Hall, leaving Allan to fend for himself in the chill of the snow. _

Allan Kane was surprised when tears began streaming down his face. He sobbed violently for a moment, recalling that awful day. Those damn boys had always made it their sport of tormenting and torturing him. Why couldn't he have been fortunate enough to be protected by the zero-tolerance harassment policy that was finally enacted a decade later? How he hated his tormentors, especially that good-for-nothing rat George Anderson…

…Anderson…?

His eyes widened at the realization. That's it! That Warbler boy, Blaine, must have been George's son! Indeed, there was a resemblance, especially around the mouth and hair color. Perhaps that explained why Allan took an immediate disliking of the boy when he had met him after the Warblers had been caught breaking curfew. A wicked grin emerged on the headmaster's face. He had taken away the Warblers, the glee club that had brought Blaine Anderson so much joy. _The sins of the father…_, Allan thought with a smirk. _You will pay dearly for your father's actions, Blaine Anderson_…

Allan nearly had a heart attack from fright when Ivy Caplesmith, his secretary, burst into his office without so much as a warning. "Headmaster…"

"Ivy, if you please!" He was furious, and clutched his chest. "Knock on the damn door next time, woman!"

The buxom lady fixed her glasses, looking perturbed. "I'm sorry, sir," she said coldly. "I was just going to let you know that, due to adverse weather conditions, the school board meeting is postponed until tomorrow afternoon."

"Fine, fine. Thank you for filling me in." He shooed her out of his office.

Ivy was about to leave when the headmaster called after her.

"Oh, wait, Ivy."

She poked her head back into the door. "Yes, sir?"

He plastered a fake smile on his face. "Whenever you get around to it, would you be kind enough to go through the student records and bring me the file of Mr. Blaine Anderson, please?" Ivy didn't like the sickening grin she received before the headmaster shut his office door.

* * *

><p>Blaine Anderson, Jeff Honeycutt, and Joe Holden took a seat at one of the oak wood tables in the dining hall. The three surveyed the room conspiratorially while lingering over their lunches.<p>

"Alright, no teachers in sight," Jeff said.

"Good," Blaine replied as he leaned in closer to the two. "Here's what we're going to do…"

The boys had been planning an impromptu sing in the dining hall the whole week. The student dining hall had been an excellent and safe bet that they wouldn't be caught. The teachers had their own lounge in the Main Hall on the south side of campus, far enough away from where the students ate.

"Alright," Blaine began. "Joe, you take the bass line first." The beat-boxing Warbler nodded. "Jeff, you take the melody, deal?" Jeff nodded as well. "Then, after a couple of measures, I'll come in." They all three nodded. "Let's do this!"

The boys hugged over the table like a football team huddling before the big game. Joe stood up first, laying down the rhythm of the song. Jeff followed seconds later with the melody. However, it wasn't until Blaine began to sing that the other students began to take notice.

Blaine closed his eyes in rapture as he snapped along to the rhythm and sang the first beautiful, catchy notes.

"_I've got sunshine on a cloudy day_…"

The boys in the dining hall began to cheer as they immediately recognized the classic doo-wop song by the Temptations.

"_…When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May_…"

Kurt was on cloud nine. He was still reflecting on the kiss he'd received from Blaine the previous afternoon in the common room as he headed over to the dining hall. He'd been in a daze all day, still reflecting on the slight smile the handsome Warbler had given him before he took off. Surely, that look and that gesture meant something. It was not an absolute necessity that he kiss Kurt just because there was mistletoe hanging over the doorway. Of course, to reassure himself, he just chocked his high-spirits on overreacting and thinking that he'd blown the kiss all out of proportion. _It was just a peck on the cheek after all_, he thought, still trying to conceal the smirk he had on his face.

As Kurt opened the doors to the dining hall, he was startled by the sight that greeted him. There wasn't a Dalton Academy student who was seated. On the contrary, they were all standing, be it on the floor, their chairs, or even the tables, and were clapping along to a song that was being sung by Blaine, Jeff, and Joe. Kurt laughed as he ran to the middle of the room to watch the boys perform.

"_…What can make me feel this way? My girl…_"

Blaine spotted Kurt as the doll-faced boy broke through the crowd. Kurt waved at him. He gave Kurt a wink as he continued through the song, setting the boy's heart a-flutter.

Joe and Jeff slowed their tempo as the song came to a close. Blaine finished with an incredibly soulful high note, causing the students to burst into loud applause. "Take THAT, Headmaster Kane," Blaine shouted as the boys continued to cheer and shout.

As the crowd dispersed, returning to their previous business but talking excitedly, Kurt was about to take a seat alone at an empty table. However, Blaine appeared almost out of nowhere as he pulled Kurt's chair out for him.

"Why thank you!" Kurt smiled. "You're quite the gentleman."

"I try to be," Blaine replied with a sexy grin. He took the seat opposite Kurt. "I know better than to let you eat all by yourself." Kurt smiled and blushed slightly. He was so sweet.

"I see your first impromptu performance was received well," Kurt smiled as he looked around the room. The students were chattering excitedly and seemed genuinely more enthusiastic than they'd ever been since Headmaster Kane had absorbed all joy from the school.

"It was great! It feels so good to be performing again." The shadow of a smile appeared on his face as he recalled the thrill and joy he always had when he stepped on stage.

Kurt let the boy daydream for a moment. After a minute, he spoke. "Blaine?"

"Kurt?"

The boys laughed at the mere coincidence that they both started speaking at the same time. Their minds were as one in that moment. "Go ahead," Blaine said.

"How's Jeremiah doing?"

Blaine froze. It wasn't that there was anything wrong in his relationship, he just felt truly awkward for relaying any information about it to Kurt. He could tell that Kurt was keeping a stiff upper lip about the ordeal.

Blaine studied the tree rings in the wood of the oak table they sat at. "Great, everything's great." He nodded, biting his lip. Kurt nodded as well, and another silence came over the two.

"Why didn't you tell me about him?" Kurt could not believe that the question had even escaped his mouth, as he was still considering asking it.

Blaine chuckled, finally breaking the tension. "You want to know the truth, Kurt?" He smiled up at the boy, who nodded. "I haven't told anyone about Jeremiah."

Kurt looked dumbfounded. "You mean, no one else knows?"

"Not a soul. You're the only one who knows about us."

"Really?" Kurt was still completely surprised by Blaine's response. "Why haven't you told anyone else?"

Blaine thought for a moment. "Well, I didn't want anyone to pass judgment."

Kurt laughed. "Why would they? Everyone knows you're gay, right?"

He laughed again, blushing somewhat. "Well, yeah! It's not that. It's just that Jeremiah's…" Blaine fumbled with the words. "He's a bit older than me." He held up his hands defensively. "Not by much, mind you, just a bit."

Kurt's heart started pounding from nervousness. So Blaine liked older men? _Damn it_! Plus, he was concerned about the handsome boy because he was just one year under the age of "being legal." "How old is he, Blaine?"

Blaine just shrugged it off. "He just turned twenty. It's no big deal really."

Kurt agreed that the mysterious paramour wasn't much older than Blaine, but he still marveled at the fact that he wasn't a fellow teenager. To Kurt, twenty years of age sounded so foreign and ancient. He even dreaded saying to someone at some point "I'm _twenty_." He involuntarily shuddered. _I'd better get the anti-aging cream ready_.

Still, despite his outwardly chipper demeanor, Kurt was miserable inside. He had tried so hard not to think of Blaine "that way," but it proved to be a challenge. And that mistletoe kiss certainly didn't alleviate the matter, although Kurt was surprised yet thankful for it. He had decided that there was no one else he'd rather be kissed by.

It was then that Kurt realized that Blaine was staring at him. "What?"

"Are you sure everything's okay, Kurt? You look kind of preoccupied."

Kurt put his thoughts aside for a moment. "Oh yeah, I'm fine." He smiled at Blaine, but the boy wasn't buying it. There was something more that was troubling Kurt.

* * *

><p>Jeff sat on his bed, reading a pulp fiction novel. He was so involved in a crucial, suspenseful part of the story that he jumped when a knock sounded at the door. The impact of his jump sent the book flying like a bird across the bed. "Come in," he shouted, clutching his heart.<p>

It was Kurt, looking forlorn. Jeff immediately sat up. Kurt saw the book on the floor and gave a little smile. "I see you're reading more sophisticated stuff these days, Jeff."

Jeff reddened, looking only minutely embarrassed. "Leave me alone. Pulp fiction gets a bad rep."

Kurt chuckled. "I'm only kidding," he said softly as he took a seat at Jeff's desk. "Nice job with the impromptu sing during lunch hour, by the way. You guys sounded great." He sighed as he rested his head on his arm.

"Okay, I know that face. What happened?" Jeff rose from the bed and leaned against his wardrobe.

"It's Blaine."

Jeff's senses began to pick up something. He crept, not-so-suavely over to the saddened boy sitting in his desk chair. "Did you talk to him?"

After a long pause, Kurt nodded morosely.

Jeff turned the chair around with Kurt still in it. Before Kurt knew what was happening, he was blinded by a bright light as Jeff went as far as to shine the desk lamp on him, police interrogation style.

Kurt was startled. "Wow," he said, amazed. "You HAVE been reading too many pulp fiction stories…"

"We're getting off the subject, Hummel!" Jeff never looked more serious. Kurt almost laughed. "Tell me everything!"

Kurt, heart pounding, knew he couldn't tell him everything. "There's nothing to tell…"

"That's bull, Hummel! Now come on, let's have it!"

Kurt threw up his hands in defense. "Alright! I'll tell you everything you need to know, but on one condition. You have to promise not to tell anyone else, do you understand? I was sworn to secrecy, and it's my fault for spilling the beans."

Jeff nodded and crossed his heart. "Scout's honor," he said. "And I mean it, because I was a Boy Scout when I was a kid. To break a vow means certain death or something."

Kurt laughed before drawing a deep breath to begin his story. He told Jeff everything, from his confession in the botanical garden, to Blaine revealing that he indeed had a boyfriend. At the end of the story, Jeff sat awestruck on the bed.

"And what does this Jeremiah do? Where did you say he works again?"

"He works at the North Hills Mall Gap. He's junior manager."

Jeff seemed to be piecing the story together. "The Gap… That explains why Blaine's been going to the mall so much lately! He told us he needed to buy new jeans. Jeans? It's not like we're allowed to wear them here." He snapped his fingers in frustration. "I should have sensed a conspiracy."

Kurt pointed a finger at Jeff. "You have to promise me that you won't tell anyone about this. This stays between us, understand?"

Jeff looked genuinely hurt. "You don't trust me, do you? If you were spilling this to Thad, then there would be trouble. For a guy he's a real gossip whore."

Kurt smiled. "I'm sorry. I trust you. It's trust crucial that we keep this secret. I think the Warblers would give Blaine hell if they found out he was dating someone 'older.'"

Jeff chuckled. "Plus, Wes would be disappointed. Blaine's another guy who's in a relationship. Wes would feel like an outsider without somebody." He laughed.

Kurt shot him a disappointed look that clearly said "_Leave Wes alone_" as Jeff's laughter subsided to a tiny chuckle.

* * *

><p>Blaine's heart was pounding in his ears as he headed across the grounds to the Main Hall. Headmaster Kane had summoned him via the school's loudspeaker system. Every student he passed seemed to be wishing him luck with their eyes. He gulped.<p>

He didn't know how the headmaster had found out about the impromptu sing, but he was certain that that was why he was being summoned. Blaine chewed his lip wearily as the thought of possible expulsion hit him. A loud ringing sounded in his ears as he reached the door of the headmaster's office.

Ms. Caplesmith, Kane's secretary, offered a smile as he walked in. "Ah, Mr. Anderson! Please have a seat. The headmaster will be with you shortly." The busty lady smiled once more before resuming her work on her computer.

"Um, Ms. Caplesmith?" Blaine sheepishly approached her desk. She looked up at him with eyes that seemed larger due to the magnification of her red horn-rimmed glasses. "Did the headmaster tell you what my summons was regarding?"

The middle-aged woman thought for a moment before shaking her head. "I haven't the slightest idea. Surely, it's nothing terribly bad. I'm sure he'll explain everything to you and you'll have nothing to worry about." She offered another gentle smile before returning her gaze to the computer.

"Thank you," Blaine replied, still not comforted.

The minute he took a seat on the cushy sofa across from Ms. Caplesmith's desk, the headmaster opened his door to admit Blaine inside. "Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson." He gestured toward his office. "Do come in."

Blaine slowly rose and apprehensively entered the headmaster's office. There was a faint whiff of prunes and something sweet that he could not place as the door closed behind them. _I'm trapped_, Blaine thought to himself.

Headmaster Kane took a seat behind his desk and indicated that the boy should sit as well. Blaine sat in the hard wooden chair opposite the headmaster and the two were silent a moment. All the while, the headmaster regarded him.

It felt an eternity before the man spoke. "Do you have any idea why I've summoned you here today, Mr. Anderson?"

Blaine shuddered. Why was he calling him "Mr. Anderson"? He didn't particularly like the formality. "No, sir," he replied, looking at his folded hands.

"Well, my boy, you're here to discuss your future at Dalton Academy."

Blaine went into a full-blown internal panic with this statement. _He must know about our impromptu performance! He'll expel me for sure!_

"I don't know how to break this to you, Mr. Anderson, but your grades for the latter part of this semester have plummeted drastically."

Blaine's panic immediately disappeared, followed by confusion. "What, sir?"

"Your grades, Blaine, they've plummeted. They've reached an all-time low. If there's any part of that phrase that you don't understand, now would be the perfect time to say so.

Blaine did not appreciate the headmaster's condescension. Of course, he kept his face stoic so as not to show the utter hatred he had for Allan Kane. "I don't understand. My instructors have shared my grade point average with me, and it is well above the danger mark."

"Well then, I would even question their grading abilities." The headmaster spat the words. Blaine didn't understand. Something wasn't right.

"Sir, what am I expected to do? I mean, I would hope and trust that my instructors aren't working against me, giving me false hope and assurance that my grades are sterling when in reality, they aren't."

Headmaster Kane gave a wry chuckle before he leaned forward over his desk. "Look, Blaine, I appreciate your rosy-colored view of the world, but let's be honest. There are people out there who are simply willing to screw you over." The headmaster suppressed a shudder, reflecting on his traumatic memories of being tortured by George Anderson, the father of the wretched boy who sat before him. "Your instructors are simply frustrated individuals who never had the chance to pursue their real dreams of being a scholar of the classics or advanced mathematicians, sharing their theorem with the worlds of science and arithmetic. Why would you think you could trust them?"

Blaine finally let some anger show. "With all due respect, sir…" The boy spat the last word out with a venomous tenacity. "…My teachers and I have a mutual respect and understanding for each other. That is how real education is supposed to work. However, being a headmaster, I'm not sure that's something you could completely understand, is it, sir?"

Allan Kane could feel his blood pressure rising. _This little…! _Blaine was just as haughty and high-and-mighty as his father. Instead of exploding, he merely took a deep, shaky breath and addressed the boy in deadly calm manner. "Do not instruct me on what I do and do not know, Blaine. It is quite clear that you are frustrated with this rather distressing news that I bear. But rest assured. Immediately following Winter Vacation, you will be spending extra study hours right here in my office after school."

Blaine was infuriated and had just about enough of the headmaster's madness. "But, sir…!"

The headmaster finally let go all inhibitions. He rose from his chair and stared the boy directly in the eye. "No more arguments! If you wish to spend the rest of your high school education at Dalton Academy undisturbed, then I suggest you do as I say. Is that clear?"

Blaine stared down at the horrid man. "Crystal." He gave the headmaster one last glance before taking his things and storming out of the office.

After the door slammed shut, Allan Kane smiled a wretched, poisonous smile and laughed wickedly to himself. "The sins of the father…"

**To be continued…**


	11. Walking on Eggshells

**Hello everyone! Thank you for all the kind comments I've been receiving! Some of them are really amusing, I must say, especially those who voice their hatred of Headmaster Kane! Terrible man, he is… Anyway, here is the eleventh installment in my so-called epic story. It is a bit shorter than some of the more recent chapters, but I've got a juicy chapter coming up next! Please enjoy, and do feel free to continue writing hilariously awesome comments!**

Pavarotti was sick. Kurt peered into the hapless canary's cage and tried to console the bird by whistling to him. The only response he received was a tiny chirp to let him know that he had been heard. _Poor thing_, Kurt thought to himself.

He had volunteered to take responsibility of Pavarotti at the last meeting of the Sons before Winter Vacation began. Wes had warned him that the bird was acting strangely, but had not thought much of it. After about a week at Kurt's house, the poor creature was showing all the telltale signs of bad health.

Fortunately, Pavarotti still had some sort of appetite and thirst, for he would finish his seeds and water within a relatively short amount of time. This comforted Kurt a little, but he still couldn't shake the fact that Pavarotti just wasn't moving otherwise. He hoped and prayed that the outlook would be better for him. Otherwise, it was a trip to the vet, an absolute last resort he would rather not make.

The first week of Winter Vacation, Kurt and Blaine had corresponded one way or another at least once a day. Kurt always found comfort in the handsome Warbler's texts or voicemails or just simply his cell phone conversation. The sound of his voice filled Kurt with warmth that he was certain he'd never quite felt before.

And yet, all the while, he had to keep nagging and reminding himself that they could only be friends. Just _friends_, he told himself. It filled him with a sense of misery, but at this rate, he was even grateful for Blaine's friendship and company. Heaven forbid, if Kurt didn't even have that… He shuddered to even consider the alternative.

Kurt's thoughts were interrupted when his phone rang on his bed. The "Teenage Dream" ringtone always meant that Blaine was calling. He practically leapt for it as he plopped on the mattress and answered while trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. "You've reached Hummel Manor. To speak with Kurt, press one, for information…"

He heard the beep of a number being punched in. Kurt giggled. Blaine was the only other person who would completely go along with his jokes and role playing. "One moment please…" Kurt reached over to his iPod speakers and blasted "Defying Gravity" for a good ten seconds before he stopped the music and responded. "Hummel Manor, this is Kurt speaking. How may I help you?"

"_Wow, they get more elaborate every time!_" Blaine's warm laughter reverberated through the cell phone speaker. It softened Kurt's heart. "_How's Pavarotti?_"

Kurt cringed. "He's not so good. The poor thing is just lying around the bottom of the cage. He's still eating and drinking, which is a good sign, but other than that, he doesn't move at all. Maybe it's seasonal depression or something. Birds don't like the cold, especially Pavarotti."

He could almost see Blaine's worried expression over the phone. "_I hope he gets better soon_. _Look, at least he still has an appetite. That's a good sign, right?_"

Kurt sighed. "I suppose. I'm just worried about the rest of it. If he doesn't get any better soon, I'll have to take him to the vet."

"_Hopefully, it won't come to that_," Blaine replied. "_Hey, listen. Do you want to grab coffee or something?_" He laughed. "_True story, I'm in Lima right now, and thought maybe we could catch a medium drip or two at the Lima Bean_."

Kurt looked toward the heavens in relief. He had been confined to his house since the Break began a week earlier due to high levels of snow and was all-too eager to take advantage of the sun that had decided to grace Lima with its presence. Plus, hanging out with Blaine was a definite "yes." "Sure! I could use a caffeine boost."

"_Excellent! Meet you there in about fifteen minutes?_" Even over the phone, Kurt could tell that the boy was smiling.

"Perfect," Kurt replied, then added. "Hey, how about the one who gets there first has to pay for the other's coffee?" He smirked.

"_Oh, it's on, Hummel!_" Blaine laughed once more. "_You're going down!_"

"We'll see about that!" Kurt laughed as he hung up and rapidly jumped off his bed and into his warm winter jacket and scarf.

He hurriedly ran down the stairs and called out "I'm having coffee with Blaine! See you, Dad! Carole! Finn!" Before any of the other family members could say another word, Kurt had bolted out the door.

"He sure spends a lot of time with that Blaine kid," Carole replied from the kitchen, making herself lunch. "I like him, though. He seems very nice."

Burt and Finn exchanged curious glances and soft smiles before returning their gaze to the college football game on television.

* * *

><p>Kurt slammed on the brakes as he skidded into a parking space directly in front of the Lima Bean. People were shooting him curious, bewildered glances as he jumped out of the car and ran towards the front door. He hadn't seen any sign of Blaine's blue Honda Civic anywhere, and was grinning in satisfaction when he realized that the person directly in front of him in line was none other than Blaine Anderson.<p>

"Well, it's about time you showed up," Blaine said, still facing forward. Kurt gave him a sour look until the handsome Warbler turned to face him with a grin. "It looks like coffee's on you."

Kurt snarled. "How did you get here before me?"

Blaine chuckled. "I had a bit of an advantage. I was only about two miles away as opposed to the four it takes to get from your house. Plus, my Honda's faster."

Kurt opened his wallet. "You suck."

Blaine stuck out his tongue. "Come on, you know I love you."

Kurt looked up at the boy, who smiled in return. He wished that there were some sort of deeper meaning in Blaine's words.

His thoughts and fantasies were rudely interrupted when the server called "Next in line, please!" Kurt inwardly scowled that he was forced to abandon that ship.

"What would you like, Speed Racer?" He nudged Blaine as he scanned the menu.

"Are you kidding?" Blaine replied with a grin. "You didn't think I'd actually place the burden of buying coffee on you, did you? I was only joking."

Kurt seemed puzzled as Blaine stepped forward. "I'll have a medium drip and a Grande non-fat mocha for this guy here. Oh, and those chocolate chip scones are calling my name. Can I get two of those please?" The cashier rang him up, Kurt still fumbling with some loose bills.

Blaine pushed it aside. "Don't even think about it. I'll just slip it back into your pocket when you aren't looking anyway." He flashed his award-winning smile as Kurt followed him to the counter. _How did he know my coffee order?_ He was absolutely dumbfounded. The two had gone out for coffee only once, and it had been back in early November before Kurt had finalized his decision to transfer to Dalton Academy. _He couldn't have remembered, could he?_ He was stunned. Maybe Blaine knew more about him than he let off.

After picking up their order, the boys took a seat at a table by the window. Blaine's piercing honey-gold eyes peered over the lid of his cup as Kurt sipped his coffee. "How is it?"

"It's good, as always."

Blaine smiled before his expression turned grave. "Kurt, I know what I'm about to say might seem a little… Absurd." The boy rubbed his hands nervously before finishing his sentence. "But I want you to keep an open mind about it. Deal?"

Kurt's heart started racing. _Uh-oh_, he thought. _What does he want to tell me?_ He nodded apprehensively. "Deal. What happened?"

Blaine leaned back and folded his hands. "I think Headmaster Kane is trying to ruin me."

Kurt could feel his blood begin to simmer at the thought of that wretched man. "What? Why? What makes you say that?"

"Well, for starters, he told me that after the Break, I'd have to start extra study hours because my grades have fallen drastically." He shrugged. "I don't understand, because my teachers would have definitely told me if my grades were slipping that badly. And you know me, I ask a million times!"

Kurt's eyes widened as he came to a sudden, terrible realization. "Blaine… You don't think the headmaster fiddled with your grades, do you?"

Blaine, who was sipping his coffee, almost choked. It seemed a wild idea, but they were also talking about the very same man who had disbanded all extracurricular activities. "You wouldn't think he'd stoop that low, do you? Besides, changing the grades to either aid or ruin a student's record is illegal, isn't it? It's tampering!"

Kurt massaged his temples. "Yeah, but he IS in a 'high position of power.'" The air quotes he used for "high position" could have caused a hurricane gust.

Blaine looked forlorn as he stirred his coffee. "Maybe he did, although I'm praying it's just a crazy hunch."

"I just don't get what he has against you," Kurt said, still shocked by all the allegations and possibilities. "Still, if we find out he's been tampering with your grades, we could haul his ass over to the Ohio School Board! No one can legally get away with something like that." He reached for Blaine's hand. "But look, Blaine, I'll be there for you through this rough time. You told me once that you've got my back, I think it's high time I've got you covered."

Blaine smiled and gave Kurt's hand an affectionate squeeze. "Thanks, Kurt. I'm so lucky to have a friend like you."

Kurt could feel his face get hot and he looked away while taking another sip of his coffee. He could feel Blaine's golden eyes on his all the while.

* * *

><p><em>The dank underground hallway leading to the old church seemed even longer that night. Kurt ran, thinking he'd never get to the Sons in time. Finally, after running for what felt like an eternity, he saw the familiar metal ladder that led to the church floor. However, at the end of the hallway, an old man stood directly blocking the ladder. Kurt immediately recognized him as Ignatius Dalton, or rather, the apparition of him that he'd seen before. <em>

_The elderly man smiled, and Kurt noticed that his hands were behind his back. The ghost extended his right hand forward and produced a large white egg. Kurt was puzzled. _Why are you showing me this?_ In reply, he handed the egg to Kurt. After a few seconds, the egg began to move. It was hatching. Kurt looked up at the old man in amazement. He simply smiled warmly in return. _

_A large crack appeared on the egg's shell. Kurt's heart was pounding, wondering what could be emerging. The top part of the shell came off, and he stared wide-eyed at the strange sight that appeared in his hand._

_It was Blaine, albeit in miniature form. If Kurt was confused before, he was absolutely dumbfounded now. _What does this mean?_ However, when he looked to face the old man, he had disappeared. Kurt looked down at the tiny Blaine in his hand. He chirped, surprising Kurt even more. The miniature Blaine continued to chirp and sing like a canary… _

Kurt awoke with a start. His head still filled with images of the bizarre dream he had, he realized that the chirping continued. He turned to face Pavarotti's cage. Sure enough, the canary was flapping around happily. Kurt smiled, relieved that the bird was finally back to normal. He rose and whistled, consoling the happy Pavarotti. As he approached the cage, he saw something that made his heart race excitedly.

There, on the bottom of the cage, was an egg. First of all, Kurt was surprised at the revelation that Pavarotti was not "he" but "she." That was why the bird had been so still for the past few days. She was pregnant! Second, he was startled about the egg he had seen in his dream. He was trying to connect the dots. _Was Dalton trying to tell me something?_ He remembered the apparition in his dream, but what about Blaine? What did Blaine have to do with the egg? It was all very peculiar.

Kurt had read in a book about dreams once that an egg symbolized a new beginning or birth. A grin appeared on his face as he thought of the possibility of a "new beginning" with Blaine. He looked towards the heavens. "Thanks, Dalton," he whispered before turning his attention back to Pavarotti.

**To be continued…**


	12. Oh, What a Night!

**Hello Fanfiction-ers! (Is that what you're called?) Anyway, I promised that this chapter would be a bit juicier, so I hope it delivers! The Warblers get their party on in a night filled with debauchery. I admit, I had to do some research on the fashion. My knowledge of such things is very limited. Also, this chapter goes out to anyone who has ever been caught in an unrequited love situation. Not to get too personal, but I am experiencing something much like what Kurt is going through in my story. Thank you for following my crazy tale, and enjoy! **

The internet was all abuzz. Facebook and Twitter were filled to capacity with talk of the Warblers' traditional after-Christmas party. Every year on December 26th, a Warbler would extend their hospitality and host a night of epic proportions at their home. This year, since his parents were visiting some old friends in Las Vegas, Blaine had volunteered to host, and the talk amongst the Dalton Academy crowd was tremendous. They all knew from past experience that a Warbler party was a night of total debauchery, and they all wanted in.

Kurt had immediately replied to the Facebook invite the minute he received the notification. He was even happier knowing that he had been the first to respond. Of course, his happiness was short-lived when he saw that Jeremiah Evans had been invited as well. Still, he held his ground, and chose to be the bigger person. He was not going to antagonize him anymore. Jeremiah was, after all, Blaine's current beau, and it would just be rude if he cold-shouldered the two of them the whole night.

The day of the big party, Kurt received a text while eating waffles at the breakfast table that morning. It was from Jeff. _I'm at the Lacoste at the Lima Mall and I need somebody with a fashion-savvy eye to help me shop for a new outfit for this evening! Help me, Obi Wan Kurt-obi! You're my only hope!_ Kurt laughed and turned to his dad, who was buried in the newspaper. "Dad, is it cool if I head out after I finish breakfast? I kind of have to help a friend with an outfit for the after-Christmas party."

Burt Hummel peered from over the headlines. "Is it that Blaine kid?"

Kurt's face twitched and immediately began to burn up. He could see Carole smiling out of the corner of his eye. Even Finn looked up from his plate in morbid curiosity. "No, it's actually my good friend, Jeff Honeycutt. He's having a fashion emergency."

Burt chuckled. "He needs your expertise, eh? Yeah, go for it. Just be careful of those crowds. The after-Christmas sales have begun, and you've seen how crazy those shoppers can be." He rolled his eyes before turning back to his paper.

"Great, thanks!" Kurt was ecstatic, and replied to Jeff's text. _Hey! Help is on the way! I'm heading out right now!_ He guzzled the last of his orange juice before heading out the door. "Thanks for the waffles, Carole!" She smiled from the kitchen as the door closed.

Finn chuckled. "I feel bad for this Jeff guy. I mean, Kurt has a great eye for such things, but if Jeff is as hopeless as I am, this could take hours." The three of them laughed happily.

* * *

><p>"Thank you so much for coming!" Jeff seemed frazzled as he hugged Kurt, holding a green polo shirt and a turquoise polo shirt at Lacoste at the Lima Mall.<p>

"Not a problem! I love assisting with fashion choices, so I was definitely honored and flattered that you turned to me first." He rubbed his hands together. "Let's see what you've got going here."

Kurt eyed both shirts as Jeff sheepishly held them up for inspection. He laughed to himself. The boy had a fairly good grasp of what looked good.

Jeff shrugged awkwardly. "Pretty bad, aren't they? I mean, I narrowed all my other selections down to these two."

Kurt shook his head. "No, no, they're actually great choices. However, I'd pick the turquoise over the green one. It's more your color and brings out the color of your hair."

Jeff nodded, placing the green one back on the rack. "Good, I actually like the turquoise one better!" He smiled, and then gestured to a few different pairs of skinny jeans. "Now, I'm torn between these three. Skinny jeans are kind of my thing, you know? When I'm not wearing my Dalton uniform, I wear skinny jeans, but I've been in the running to purchase new ones for quite some time."

Kurt looked them over. "I can see why you wear them. They suit your overall look." One pair was blue, one was black, and the last was light gray. He indicated the blue pair. "Those are a definite 'no' with this outfit, I'm afraid. Either the black or gray ones would go with turquoise. See, black goes with anything, but the gray might work too because it's a light color like the turquoise." He thought for a moment. "I'll tell you what. Why don't you model them for me? Try the black jeans with the shirt first and then the gray ones and we'll go from there."

The boys picked up the possible clothes and headed over to the back of the store where the fitting rooms were located. Over the course of the following ten minutes, Jeff emerged from the dressing room, modeling the clothes like he was on a catwalk. Kurt could not stop laughing, and people in the store were eyeing them with confusion. However, when Jeff stepped out with the turquoise polo and light gray jeans ensemble, Kurt knew automatically that they had a winner.

"What do you think?" Jeff stood there for a moment, waiting for the decision from Kurt.

"It's perfect! The colors go well together and they look great on you!" Kurt clapped. "I think we have a winner!" He walked Jeff over to the fitting room mirror. "And I think we're both ready for the epic night ahead." The two laughed wickedly about what was sure to be an incredible evening.

* * *

><p>The pounding bass of dance music could be heard from the walkway. Since the two had spent the afternoon together, Kurt had decided to drive Jeff to the party. Blaine's house was located in Findlay, a good thirty miles from Lima, and in a quiet, elegant neighborhood. There was no one out front, but Kurt assumed that most of the action was taking place in the house and in the backyard.<p>

The boys approached the front door. The noise from inside was even louder now. Kurt kept nervously fixing his hair to see to it that no strand was out of place. Jeff laughed. "Would you relax? You look fine!"

"I'm sorry," Kurt said, fixing his shirt. "I've never been to a party of this scale before. The least I can do is look presentable."

Jeff snorted, rolling his eyes. "Trust me, by the end of a Warbler party, your pants might end up on your head." Kurt shot him a worried look, causing Jeff to mutter "Kidding!" Jeff's hand reached for the doorknob. "Kurt Hummel, are you ready for the greatest night of your life?"

Kurt grinned, staring straight ahead. "Bring it on!"

The blonde boy threw the door open, and the sight before them caused Kurt's jaw to drop in awe.

A large group of boys and girls crowded the living room and even the stairwell. They were all dancing to the rhythm of the music that was being mixed by Joe Holden, the glee club's resident DJ. Kurt recognized some of the boys from his classes, but didn't know any of the girls. As if reading his mind, Jeff shouted over the noise. "The girls are from our sister school, Crawford Country Day. It's also a bit of a tradition to invite them to any and all Dalton/Warbler parties." He scratched his head, thinking for a moment. "I wonder if Jamie-Lynn's here." Kurt looked puzzled for a moment. "That's the girl that Wes is crushing on. I told you about her, didn't I?"

Kurt nodded. He remembered Jeff telling him all about Wes' unrequited love situation. _Hopefully, Jamie-Lynn doesn't have a boyfriend to rub it in your face, Wes_, he thought to himself.

Speaking of the devil, Wes appeared as the two boys entered the kitchen area. He was carrying a red plastic cup filled with some sort of alcoholic beverage. He was wearing a white dress shirt with a tie that had been loosened. "Well, well, if it isn't Jurt and Keff!" From his slurred speech, it was obvious he'd been nipping on the bottle.

"Hey, Wes!" Jeff smiled, trying hard not to laugh. "Are you having fun?"

"Are you kidding?" Wes threw his arm over Jeff's shoulder, hugging him close. "We're Warblers! We know how to par… Part…" He hiccupped loudly, and shook his head when he couldn't finish the sentence. He stumbled away towards the living room.

Jeff turned towards Kurt. "That's not a good sign. He must have seen Jamie-Lynn with another guy. He only drinks at parties if they've gotten into a fight, or she's with some other guy."

As if on cue, a beautiful red-haired girl stepped inside the house from the backyard. She frantically searched the kitchen area until she saw Jeff. A grin appeared on her face. "Hey, Jeff! Long time, no see!"

Jeff hugged her. "Hey, Jamie-Lynn! How's it going?" The blonde Warbler motioned for Kurt to step forward. "Jamie-Lynn Watkins, this is Kurt Hummel. He's our latest addition to the Warblers and the first counter-tenor we've had in years!"

"How do you do?" Jamie-Lynn stepped forward. "You must be the new boy Blaine always talks about on Twitter."

Kurt could feel Jeff's eyes on him. His heart started racing. Kurt didn't have Twitter account, but of course knew all about it. "Oh, really? He writes good things, I hope? I have a reputation to keep."

Jamie-Lynn laughed. "Yes, he writes the nicest things about you. Apparently, they're all true."

Kurt blushed again. He was touched not just by the girl's compliment, but by Blaine's affectionate tweets. "Thank you, you're awfully kind…"

She turned back to Jeff, her expression suddenly very grave. "Have you guys seen Wes? I've got to find him. I need to tell him… It's something important."

Jeff pointed over to the living room area. "He just walked into that room. I'm sure he's still there now."

Jamie-Lynn nodded, once again looking quite serious. "Great, thanks so much, Jeff! And it was lovely meeting you, Kurt!" She ran into the living room.

Jeff turned to face Kurt. "See what I mean? Those two need to get together already!"

"Yikes," Kurt said, astonished. "These parties may be fun, but they're also full of drama."

Jeff grinned. "Hey, lighten up! Wes and Jamie-Lynn drama is probably the only kind you'll see all evening. We're here to have fun, remember? Now, let's look for the others and get this party started!" Jeff threw his hands into the air and shouted loudly.

Kurt gulped and said "Here I go."

* * *

><p>Blaine, the gracious host, was nowhere to be found. He had been at the party a good hour, and the handsome Warbler had not shown his face once. Kurt had seen David with his girlfriend Tasha, Nick (ever the party boy) dancing and flirting with a few other girls, Trent with his boyfriend Max, and Thad who, apparently when drunk, had a talent for making balloon animals. Amidst all the craziness, Blaine was still AWOL.<p>

Kurt kept recreating horrid, frightening scenarios of what he and Jeremiah might be doing on the second floor of the grandiose house. He shook them out of his mind as best he could. Taking a seat on the living room sofa, he soon realized that he wasn't alone on the couch.

A young man with long blonde curls and green eyes was seated at the opposite end of the sofa. He sat, twiddling his thumbs, and taking swigs from a purple wine cooler. He looked like a model.

Kurt rose to excuse himself. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to just barge onto the couch…"

The blonde turned his head towards Kurt and gave him a wry smile. "It's not my sofa, but please make yourself comfortable." He indicated the empty seat next to him. Kurt gingerly sat. "Thank you," was all he said.

The boy took a swig from the wine cooler before he spoke again. "Have you any idea where Blaine might be? He hasn't returned any of my calls or texts, and I'm beginning to worry about him."

Kurt laughed. "Oh, that's Blaine! Since he's hosting, he's probably trying to make a grand entrance or something. Our Blaine does love suspense!"

That got the young man laughing. He had a full, throaty laugh, the kind that leading men in old movies used to have. "That he does," he replied, talking about Blaine. He turned to face Kurt and extended his hand. "I'm Jeremiah, by the way. Jeremiah Evans."

The blood froze in Kurt's veins, and he was certain the color must have drained from his face. He tried not to look too surprised or shocked. "I'm Kurt. Kurt Hummel." He took Jeremiah's hand and shook it. It was warm, and Kurt tried so hard not to think about all the times that hand held Blaine's. He imagined how their fingers must have interlaced, and Kurt had a nauseating, sickening image in his mind of the two melding together into one amorphous being.

"Ah, so you're Kurt Hummel." There was a glint of something in Jeremiah's green eyes that Kurt couldn't place. It seemed a cross between recognition and malice. "My, Blaine has told me an awful lot about you."

Kurt as before replied with a sharp "Only good things, I hope?"

Jeremiah forced a grin. "Only the best." The two boys stared at each other for a brief moment as the tension arose between them. If looks could kill, then they'd have a Wild West duel on their hands.

"Are you boys looking for me?"

Both Kurt and Jeremiah turned at the same time to face Blaine. Kurt marveled at the boy's choice of clothing. He was wearing black jeans and a bright, neon blue tank top with equally bright pink sunglasses. His shoes were blue and pink Converse. As Kurt's eyes adjusted to all the bright colors, he couldn't help but notice Blaine's arms. They were strong and well-defined. He forced himself to look away.

Jeremiah stepped around the couch and hugged the handsome Warbler, but not before a flirty "Hey," and a quick kiss on the lips. Kurt simmered momentarily, knowing that he was doing it just to rub it in. Blaine, although he seemed to appreciate the gesture, was eager to tear himself away quickly. He turned to face Kurt, a strange expression on his face. "Jeremiah, this is my best friend Kurt."

"Oh, we've already met," Jeremiah replied. He extended his hand once more. "The pleasure, I assure you, is entirely mine." Kurt, sensing the double meaning in his words and mustering all the venom he could in one handshake, took the hand and returned the salutation. He watched as the boys walked away, with Blaine looking over his shoulder at Kurt. There was a look in those familiar amber eyes that he just couldn't place. Was it apologetic? He didn't know. All Kurt knew was that, even though the night was just beginning, he wanted desperately for it to be over.

* * *

><p>As the hours wore on, the lights all over the house shut off as strobe lighting took their place, filling the home with a wide array of rainbow colors. The crowd cheered in the living room as 3Oh! 3's "Follow Me Down" played some time after midnight. Joe stood behind his DJ table, grooving to the beat of the music through his headphones. Excitement filled the air.<p>

Kurt awkwardly walked through the crowd. The music filled him with the desire to move, but his feet remained grounded. All he could do was watch Jeremiah and Blaine dancing oh-so-closely in their corner of the makeshift dance floor. Their foreheads were touching as Jeremiah said something that made the other boy laugh, and the two closed the tiny space between them by kissing on the lips. The sight was more than Kurt could stand. He decided he'd had his fill of the party. After all, what was the point of staying if he was simply going to be miserable the rest of the night?

As he reached the front door, he grabbed his coat and took one last look at the house. People were dancing and laughing, drinking and singing. If he left, it's not like anyone would notice anyway. Buttoning his coat, he walked out the door and headed back to his car.

The bitter cold air stung Kurt's cheeks and almost froze the tears that were streaming down his face. He really hated crying, but he couldn't help it. He had tried everything in his power to put aside his feelings for Blaine, and yet whenever he saw the handsome Warbler up close or looked, transfixed, into his liquid gold eyes, he would fall for him all over again.

He leaned against the side of his car, sobbing softly. He just didn't know what to do. He was tired of waiting, hoping that the boy he loved would one day feel the same way. And yet, as a side note, he didn't want to give up. He knew he just needed to wait a little longer. After all, when he confessed his feelings for Blaine, not once did he give Kurt a full-blown rejection. All he said was that he was seeing somebody. That didn't rule out anything.

Kurt laughed at the idiocy of it all and for, once again, reading far too much into the situation. He opened his car door in defeat when he heard the strained opening notes of Katy Perry's "Firework" coming from within the house. It was his go-to song for the days when he just didn't feel like dealing with the tedium and drama of teenage life. He almost felt as if it were a sign from some higher authority, letting him know that everything would be alright, and that he would make it through the rough spots. _Should I stay or should I go?_ The question plagued him for a split second.

The car door slammed shut as Kurt ran back towards the house with a swelling in his heart. Tears of joy replaced the bitter ones. He was not going to be a slave of his emotions. He burst through the front door and threw his coat aside as he sang along with the lyrics.

"_Do you ever feel like a plastic bag, drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?_"

He walked straight through the makeshift dance floor. At that time, everyone was essentially oblivious of his presence, but he knew who he was singing for.

"_Do you ever feel, feel so paper-thin, like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?_"

Kurt's eyes filled with tears as he sang the words with emotion, finding the meaning in them and realizing that the song was describing everything he was feeling and experiencing. He proceeded to the middle of the room and jumped up on a nearby coffee table and proceeded to sing the chorus.

"_'Cause baby, you're a firework! Come on show 'em what you're worth! Make 'em go 'oh, oh, oh' as you shoot across the sky-ay-ay!_"

Everyone started cheering and gathering around the table. He surveyed the room and saw Jeff and Nick smiling up at him, calling out his name. Trent and his boyfriend were shouting and jumping up and down in rhythm with the beat. When Kurt looked to the corner of the room, he saw a livid looking Jeremiah, with Blaine nowhere to be seen. It wasn't until he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning him around, that he realized Blaine was standing on the table too, dancing and singing along right with him.

"_Boom, boom, boom! Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon! It's always been inside of you, you, you, and now it's time to let it through-oo-oo…_"

All the while, Jeremiah stood in the corner, watching the two best friends serenade the crowd. He knew that Kurt Hummel would be trouble. It was blatantly obvious to him that the boy had deep feelings for Blaine. Jeremiah smirked to himself. He would see to it that Blaine would never fall for such shenanigans. _Have your fun, Kurt_, he thought wickedly to himself. _The boy is mine_.

"_'Cause baby, you're a firework! Come on, let your colors burst! Make 'em go 'oh, oh, oh!' You're gonna leave 'em goin' 'oh, oh, oh!'_"

As the song finished, the boys were greeted with tumultuous and rousing applause and cheers. Even Jeremiah clapped out of sheer defeat, looking only slightly perturbed. Blaine turned and embraced the frazzled Kurt as the two were being carried away to crowd-surf. "See, this is why I love you, Kurt! You've made this the best party ever!"

Kurt returned the warm gaze that Blaine gave him. It wasn't exactly the love he was looking for, but he decided he'd take it.

**To be continued…**


	13. Antipasto and Alliances

**Hello interweb! I know this chapter hasn't come as quickly as some of you hoped, but life has been happening for the past few days. Nothing terrible, mind you, just super busy. Anyway, here is the follow-up chapter! I admit, it is a bit of a filler chapter, but there's something interesting that occurs. I honestly don't know where I come up with these things. Still, thank you so much for all who follow my crazy tale! Once more, all feedback and commentary are welcome! Please enjoy! **

Blaine walked through the halls like a man doomed to hang from the gallows. His extra study sessions with Headmaster Kane were scheduled to begin that afternoon, the first day of classes after Winter Vacation. And yet, despite the lingering doom that hung over like a shadowy storm cloud of despair, his fellow classmates all smiled, patted him on the back, or gave him some general sign of recognition. He knew why, of course. It was all due to the success of the after-Christmas party a week prior. It had been a huge success, and many of the boys at Dalton were hailing it as the best after-Christmas party of recent years. He fondly remembered the night as he proceeded to the Main Hall. He remembered being surrounded by his friends and acquaintances. He recalled how he had danced so closely with Jeremiah, smiling softly to himself while reflecting on the kisses the two boys had shared. And then there had been Kurt's startling rendition of "Firework."

He would never dare tell Jeremiah, but Kurt's singing had, easily, been the highlight of the evening.

Blaine still marveled at how Kurt had simply taken control of the room that night. Of course, he had seen him perform before, but never had he seen him sing with such a fiery passion and tenacity. The performance had essentially blown his mind, and even as he thought about it then, he felt the familiar excitement and tickling sensation in his stomach that he felt while Kurt had been performing.

The memory made Blaine smile. As if on cue, he heard his phone beep, indicating that he had received a text. It was from Kurt. _I know your "study sessions" begin today. Allow me to use a word that you taught me: Courage. You'll be fine, Blaine. Show that jerk who's boss! _Blaine laughed as he reread the text over again. _You're my guardian angel_, he chuckled to himself as he immediately began texting back with an idea forming in his mind.

* * *

><p>Kurt grinned, his heart pounding excitedly, as he read the response from Blaine. <em>You're amazing, Kurt! Thanks so much for the courage. You truly are one of the greatest friends I have. Meet me at the botanical garden tonight at 7. See you there! <em>Kurt was itching to know why Blaine wanted to meet him at the botanical garden. He didn't care, though, for it was just another excuse for the boys to spend more time together. He practically skipped back to his dormitory.

When he opened the large oak doors to the common room, he was greeted by the uproarious applause of the Warblers. Kurt was startled, and the boys laughed at the curious expression on his face. "What are you all doing here? And why are you clapping?"

Thad stepped forward from the group. "Kurt, your wonderful rendition of 'Firework' at the after-Christmas party has kept us talking for the better part of last week."

"We were amazed at your incredible ability and skill as a performer," David said, appearing beside Thad. "To simply sing and move to the words and rhythm of the song is only half the performance, but you brilliantly acted them out as well."

"Therefore," Wes began, standing beside David. "We'd like to offer you a solo performance at Sectionals."

Kurt was eagerly waiting to respond, but then realized the error of their invitation. "Guys," he began, dumbfounded. "I truly am touched and honored to be offered such an amazing opportunity, but have you guys forgotten? Thanks to Allan Kane, we're not going to Sectionals. The Warblers have been 'disbanded,' remember?"

"Not if I can help it."

Thad, David, Wes, and all the other Warblers stepped aside as Ivy Caplesmith, the headmaster's secretary, revealed herself. Kurt was stunned. "Ms. Caplesmith, with all due respect, what are you doing here?"

The older woman smiled warmly. "I know this comes as a great surprise to you, Mr. Hummel," she began. "But as a faculty member and a big supporter of the Dalton Academy Warblers during my thirty years at this school, I felt it absolutely necessary to reach out and offer my assistance. I had plenty of time to reflect on the matter during Winter Vacation, and realized that I simply had to do it."

Kurt shot a skeptical glance in Jeff's direction. Jeff, who was seated behind the lady, simply nodded and gave him a thumbs-up. _They must have already grilled her of all the details_, Kurt thought to himself.

Ms. Caplesmith began to pace back and forth across the common room. "I know the contempt you all feel for the new headmaster. To put it mildly, he is a difficult man to reason with. What he has done to Dalton Academy is nothing short of criminal, and I know that, were Edward Lamont to return as headmaster, he would be appalled by what Allan Kane has done. That being said, I will be covering for you on Thursday, January 20th, for Sectionals. Your teachers will mark you absent, but please bear in mind, that it is _I _who will be receiving their attendance rosters at the end of the day." She smiled wickedly. "Headmaster Kane will never know that you were gone."

David stepped forward after she was through speaking. "Ms. Caplesmith has even been kind enough to pull money from her own funds to reserve our transportation to and from the venue." Kurt stood, still stunned, as the Warblers once more broke into applause. Ms. Caplesmith seemed humbled by the gesture.

Thad leaned forward, gently nudging the boy. "Well, Kurt, what do you say? Are you interested in singing a solo at Sectionals?"

The room seemed to take a collected breath, absorbing all the oxygen in the crowded space. All eyes were on Kurt as he truly considered his options.

Blaine had promised him from the start that he would eventually be offered a solo. The handsome Warbler had been right, albeit that Kurt never dreamed it would occur under these pressured circumstances. The Warblers didn't know how long he'd been waiting for an opportunity like this to come along.

Of course, he already knew his answer. He nodded to the room and at Ms. Caplesmith. "Yes, I'll do it!"

Kurt jumped, startled, at the uproar that followed his reply. The boys gathered around him in a giant, suffocating embrace. Not only were they excited about Kurt's first solo, but they were also equally ecstatic about the fact that their chances at winning Sectionals were far greater now that they had their first counter-tenor in over thirty-five years. A static energy filled the common room. They were so eager to win, just so they could rub Headmaster Kane's face in their sweet victory.

* * *

><p>The Main Hall clock tower announced in bell tolls that it was seven o'clock. Kurt strolled through the half-a-foot snow that blanketed the grounds. Despite the fact that snow was still gently falling, there wasn't a breeze or even the slightest sound of air movement. He was reminded of those delicate yet lifelike winter scenes that were so prevalent in Japanese art.<p>

The lovely glass building that housed the botanical garden appeared in his line of vision like a warm and welcoming beacon. Due to the fact that the garden housed many wild and exotic plants, the temperature was always warmer and humid within. Kurt looked forward to the change in temperature.

He still wasn't sure why Blaine had asked him to meet up at the botanical garden in the first place. Nevertheless, Kurt's heart continued to gently pound as he savored spending the evening with Blaine.

When he reached the door, he fixed his hair to be sure that no strand was out of place. He cleared his throat to be certain that, when addressed, his voice wouldn't crack and squeak like a prepubescent boy. He took a deep breath, reached for the golden handle, and entered through the glass door.

Kurt was greeted with the familiar brick walkway and the cherubic fountain ahead of him. The intoxicating scent of plumeria and hibiscus completely filled the room, the trickling water of the fountain being the only sound he could hear. He walked in a little ways and had a seat on the lacy ironwork bench. He nervously fixed his hair once more.

"I wouldn't touch it. You look great."

Kurt turned to see Blaine emerge from between two rhododendron bushes. He smiled warmly at the boy seated on the bench. Kurt marveled at how his eyes seemed even more golden that evening.

Kurt chuckled. "So, I see you're still alive." Blaine smirked in response. "How did your study session go with Headmaster Kane?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "I suppose it could have been worse. He's such a ruthless man, after all, but I was surprised that it wasn't all that bad. He just sits there as you slave over the supplemental work he assigns you."

Kurt, too, was surprised. "Wow, I thought it'd be a hell on earth situation." Both boys laughed at the prospect.

When the laughter died down between them, Blaine addressed the matter at hand. "I'm sure you're wondering why I invited you here this evening."

"Yeah, an explanation would be lovely," Kurt smiled. "I mean, I don't mind. The scenery in here is certainly more appealing than what is outside."

Blaine held his hand out for Kurt to take. "Come on." Kurt gingerly rose as he recognized the glimmer of something in those amber gold eyes. He took Blaine's hand as the boy lead him to another part of the botanical garden. A sea of color passed before his eyes as Kurt saw a wide variety of flowers he had never seen.

The boys arrived at another elaborate glass door. It was then that Kurt realized that the garden was even larger than it appeared. Blaine grabbed the doorknob and turned to face him. "Are you ready?"

Kurt smiled softly and nodded apprehensively. Blaine laughed. "Relax! It's nothing scary or anything, I promise." He opened the door, and Kurt was speechless by what he saw.

There, in the center of the circular room, was a small table covered in a checkerboard cloth and with a wine bottle with a lit candle stuck in the opening. He noticed that place settings had been arranged for two people, and two steaming plates of chicken carbonara were waiting for them. The room smelled enticingly of Italian cuisine.

Kurt recognized Jeff's phonograph sitting in the corner, Edith Piaf's "La Vie en Rose" wafting from the Victrola horn, setting the mood of the room perfectly. He smirked, wishing he knew what Jeff must have been thinking at that very moment.

He turned to face Blaine, his expression one of surprise, yet in search of an explanation. Blaine laughed before speaking, taking Kurt's hands. "Kurt, you've always been a great friend, and I even feel it appropriate to say that, over the course of the past few months, you have become my best friend. Even when things are looking dismal and depressing, you're always there to brighten my day. This afternoon, for instance, I was so nervous about my study session until you texted me. So, as a 'thank you' for always being there for me…" He gestured towards the table. "…I'd like to treat you to dinner, made by yours truly!"

Kurt thought his heart was going to stop. He was truly touched. It was the sweetest gesture anyone ever showed him. God damn it! Why did he have to have a boyfriend? Jeremiah did not know how lucky he was to have someone like him. Blaine was always such a gentleman, a truly dying breed in a world of men who were more or less mostly interested in one thing only.

To reaffirm this fact, Blaine pulled Kurt's chair out for him. Kurt's heart melted into a puddle. Blaine produced two glasses from somewhere and a bottle of lemonade. "Since I know you don't drink, and we're not allowed to on school grounds anyway, I have some of the best lemonade you'll ever taste right here! It's made from California lemons." He took the seat opposite Kurt and poured glistening lemonade into their glasses. It was then that he realized that Kurt was staring at him. "Kurt, is everything okay?"

Kurt finally found his voice amidst all the tenderness he was feeling for the boy who sat before him. "Blaine, I appreciate that our friendship means so much to you. Indeed, it does to me too, but you didn't have to do all this…"

"Nonsense!" Blaine seemed humorously incensed. "Besides, I wanted to! It's time someone realized and appreciated just how special you really are. And in all honesty, it's mostly because of this afternoon. I don't think I could have gotten through that diabolical study session if it weren't for your 'courage' text. I know I'm not one to generally lose my cool, but I was on the breaking point today. Thanks for saving me the trauma." He raised his lemonade glass. "To my guardian angel."

Kurt blushed as he raised his glass in response. "To our friendship! May we never part." Kurt tried desperately not to let his innermost feelings slip into that last sentence. The two guzzled their lemonade.

"And now for the _spécialité de la maison_!" Blaine gestured to their plates. "I made chicken carbonara! My mom taught me this recipe and, incidentally, it's the only Italian dish I know how to make…"

Kurt looked hungrily at the meal before him. "Blaine, this looks absolutely extraordinary! But, how did you make it? We have meals and food provided and prepared for us from the kitchen staff."

Blaine gave a sheepish grin in response. "I know someone on the kitchen staff, so I was able to cook all this up right after my study session. I made her a list, and she went out and bought everything I needed, bless her heart." He indicated Kurt's plate with his fork. "Go ahead, try it! I need a critic's opinion."

Kurt chuckled and tasted some of the chicken carbonara. It nearly melted in his mouth and was bursting with flavor. He'd never quite tasted anything as delicious. "Oh my god, Blaine, this is amazing!"

The handsome boy looked skeptical. "Really, or are you just saying that to console me? Because I've tried certain recipes before that didn't quite turn out right…"

"No, no, I'm serious! This is terrific! This really the best chicken carbonara I've ever had!" He smirked at Blaine. "You're a wonderful cook."

"Oh, maybe I'll make a good housewife someday." Both boys laughed. Kurt noticed, in the silence that followed, that Blaine was pushing the food around the plate with his fork.

"What's wrong, Blaine?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

Kurt gave him a "really?" look. "Come on, I think we know each other well enough to know when something's gone wrong."

Blaine sighed and pushed his plate away. "It's Jeremiah."

Kurt's heart rate began to pick up speed. _Uh-oh_, he thought. "Oh, what's going on with you two?"

Blaine fumbled with the words. "I think he's jealous."

Kurt licked his lips as sweat began to appear on his brow. "What would he be jealous about? I mean, he's got you, right? Or does he simply envy us for not being able to wear a blazer every day?" He laughed, trying to brighten the conversation, but when he saw that Blaine wasn't catching on, he abruptly stopped.

Blaine licked his lips, cringing about what he was about to say. "We got into a big argument on Saturday night…" He licked his lips nervously. "…About you. I think he's jealous of you…"

Kurt gulped. "Why would he be jealous of me?"

Blaine ran a hand through his jelled hair. "I don't know. It sounds crazy, I know, but lately, he's been so irritable and distant around me. He's been like this ever since the after-Christmas party. I think it's because you and I spend a lot more time together than I do with him."

Kurt laughed a little too loudly before saying "Well, what does he expect? I mean, you are a full-time student! You've got work and responsibilities to Dalton Academy! And naturally, we see each other every day! We're best friends and we go to the same school!"

Blaine nodded in agreement. "You're right. You're absolutely right, Kurt. I'm just going to tell him that this is how it is. He's just going to have to learn to accept it."

"That's right," Kurt replied in approval. "If he really cares about you, then he'll understand completely." He really had to force the words out.

The boy at the other side of the table smiled. "Thanks, Kurt," he said softly. He stared dreamily at Kurt for a good minute. He couldn't tell if Blaine was merely lost in thought or actually staring at him. It was a look Kurt knew he would never ever want to erase from his memory.

As the turntable slowed, Edith Piaf's voice melted into a low grumble as the record came to a stop.

**To be continued…**


	14. The Spirit Medium and the Set List

**Hello everyone in Fanficland! To start off with something a little off-topic, I would like to dedicate this chapter to J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter series. Seeing as tomorrow truly marks the end of an era with the release of the eighth and final film, I feel compelled to dedicate it to them. In this chapter, the Sons attempt to perform a ritual that has only been performed twice in the entire history of the secret society. I had a great time writing this particular installment, and I hope that you'll enjoy it! **

The senior commons was filled to capacity. Foot traffic was heavy due to the fact that it was between classes. Students went about their business, unaware that something was about to happen.

Nick Corwin was casually leaning against the wall, as if waiting for somebody. Jeff Honeycutt and Blaine Anderson were across the room, Blaine removing his guitar from its case and Jeff admiring the beautiful instrument. Trent Nixon was directly across from Nick, and the two nodded as Blaine began to pluck out some notes on his guitar.

Heads began to turn as Blaine played a funky blues riff. It wasn't until Jeff, Trent, and Nick started singing back-up and snapping along in rhythm that a crowd began to gather.

Jeff stepped forward from the other four as he began to soulfully sing the lyrics:

"_If I could reach the stars, I'd pull one down for you…_

_Shine it on my heart, so you could see the truth…_"

The crowd of students started clapping along in rhythm. Even a couple teachers had stopped to immerse themselves in the catchy song, swaying to the beat.

Jeff threw his hands up as he sang the words with feeling.

"…_That I can change the world, I would be the sunlight in your universe, you will think my love was really something good, baby if I could change the world…_"

Blaine launched into his guitar solo. The crowd cheered. Trent and Nick exchanged grins as they continued with the backbeat.

The song was coming to a close as Jeff sang out the last words with heart-wrenching passion.

"_Baby, if I could change the world! Baby, if I could change the world! Baby, if I could change… The world._"

Jeff improvised a soulful gospel finish while Blaine plucked out the final notes on his guitar. Trent and Nick finished with just as much soul as the crowd around them burst into applause. The four boys smiled and embraced, waving and thanking their public for the appreciation.

The senior commons was just about to clear out when Headmaster Kane's shrill, hoarse voice called out over the discussion. "What's all this?"

Blaine had just put his guitar away as the creepy man emerged in the senior commons. Everyone, teachers and students, froze. "I could have sworn I just heard singing." He scanned the room, doing his best to pick out any of the Warblers he automatically assumed were the culprits. His eyes stopped on the four in one particular corner of the room. "You weren't singing, were you?"

It was Nick who responded. "No, sir." He visibly gulped, but perhaps the headmaster was too thick to notice.

"Well, that's good news," the headmaster replied in mock relief. "Because I know I surely would hate to have to expel you boys from Dalton Academy." The silence in the room was thicker and heavier than pea soup. The headmaster flashed a dangerous grin at the quartet.

Allan Kane's gaze surveyed the room. "As you were, gentlemen!" The boys seemed overeager to escape the clutches of the madman they called headmaster. He turned once more and nodded at Jeff, Trent, and Nick, signifying that they were free to go. The three boys nodded at Blaine, indicating that they would see him later.

The boy turned to face the hideous man. "Mr. Anderson, to my office. _Now_. Your study session is due to start in a minute anyway." The headmaster swiftly turned on his heel and proceeded out the door of the senior commons. Blaine shot him a venomous look of scorn and hatred as he followed Kane out the door.

* * *

><p>The three-quarters moon disappeared behind a thin veil of cloud cover. The bright, milky blue light that had bathed the grounds only minutes earlier was gone, leaving almost complete darkness in its place. There wasn't a breeze stirring. It seemed as if the earth were holding its breath.<p>

A dark, cloaked figure swiftly ran from one tree to another, searching the grounds for any sign of movement that could have been a night watchman on lookout. The hood was pulled back momentarily, revealing Kurt. He took a quick look at his cell phone clock. 11:49 pm. He reread the mass text he'd received from Wes that afternoon: _Important Sons meeting tonight at midnight in the woods behind the old church. Be careful!_ Kurt was still startled at how brazen this meeting was likely to be. To be outdoors and out-of-bounds was a setup for disaster. Should information about this reach the headmaster… No, he didn't want to even consider the consequences.

Kurt screamed as a hand covered his mouth. He kicked and flailed at the empty air as he was being spun around to face his attacker.

"Kurt, Kurt, it's me! It's Jeff Honeycutt!"

The boy was shaking him. "Damn it, Jeff!" He shook himself off, still rattled. A muffled apology was all Jeff could muster.

Kurt stopped struggling, but his expression remained confused. The blonde Warbler was wearing a Guy Fawkes mask that concealed his identity completely. He also had the hood up over his head, making him even harder to recognize.

Kurt stifled a chuckle. "What are you wearing that mask for?"

Jeff smiled as he removed the mask from his face. "Are you kidding? When I received Wes' text this afternoon about an outdoor meeting, I decided not to take any chances. I had to go incognito."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Well, that certainly does the trick."

The boy smirked in response. "Leave me alone. It sounded like a great idea at the time." He replaced the mask over his face, reminding Kurt that he had somehow misplaced his copy of the graphic novel _V for Vendetta_. "Come on," Jeff said. "We'll be late for the meeting."

The moon emerged from behind its misty veil, once again illuminating the grounds and lighting the way to the woods. Kurt stayed close to Jeff's side as they ran, for he had never ventured anywhere near those woods just outside the Northern campus grounds. Besides, he was a bit terrified about what could be lurking within their darkest depths.

They both stopped once they reached the edge of the wood. "When Warblers are lost, they call to one another," Jeff said, temporarily removing his mask to speak. "Watch this." He cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a bellowing wolf cry. Kurt, heart pounding, turned around frantically to be sure that no night watchmen were after them. Jeff saw and smirked. "Relax, Kurt! Wolves are native to the surrounding regions. If anything, the watchmen will think it's an actual stray wolf." From somewhere within the forest, they heard a call in response. "It's David. They're not very far off. Let's go."

Jeff put the mask back on and fled, Kurt in tow, towards the middle of the woods. Kurt was surprised that the blonde boy could even tell who had issued the response call. _They must know each other very well by now_, he thought to himself.

After only a couple minutes of running and dodging low-hanging branches, Jeff and Kurt reached the other Warblers. They were all gathered in a clearing that must have been dead-center in the middle of the woods. Some were sitting on logs while the others stood, holding candles, around a simple gravesite. Kurt noticed that the small headstone belonged to Ignatius Dalton, for his name was etched into the gray stone surface. A shiver ran down his spine.

"We're all accounted for now, Wes," David said, facing the leader.

"Good, then we'll begin." Wes raised his hands for silence, causing the whispered conversations to immediately cease. "Brothers, we are gathered here tonight for a very important ritual. As I'm sure you're all well aware, Ivy Caplesmith, out of the goodness of her heart, has vowed not only to cover for us, but has provided our transportation to and from Sectionals on January 20th!"

The boys burst into cheers and exclamations of joy. "Also," Wes continued. "In even more exciting news, our newest addition, Kurt Hummel, has been chosen for the solo performance at the competition this year!" More spontaneous applause followed as Kurt sheepishly looked around the group and waved. Wes held his hands up once more for silence. "Therefore, tonight is the night we choose songs for our set-list!" Wes nodded to Thad and David, who were passing out blank sheets of paper and markers. "I want all of you to write down as many song ideas as you can on your sheet of paper. When you are all finished, turn them into me, and we will go from there. Don't forget to separate the solos from the group numbers!"

Kurt took a piece of blank paper and a marker from David as he passed. He then noticed that Blaine was trying to get his attention somewhere to his far left.

"Kurt! Hey, Kurt! Come sit here!"

Kurt smiled, watching Blaine excitedly gesture to the empty space on the log he sat on. He reminded Kurt of an excited little boy spotting his best friend on the playground. He took his seat next to the handsome Warbler.

Blaine nosily looked at Kurt's paper. "What songs are you going to choose?"

Kurt held the paper to his chest, appalled. "I'm not showing you! Besides, I haven't written any yet." Blaine smirked, and even as Kurt rapidly scribbled song titles, he tried desperately to peer over the boy's shoulder.

* * *

><p>In the dim candlelight, Wes read through some of the selections the Warblers had chosen. "These are all very excellent choices," he said, intrigued. "However, tonight, the decision is not ours to make. The choice lies with Ignatius Dalton himself."<p>

A confused buzz of conversation ventured around the circle of Warblers. Wes smiled vaguely before he pressed on. "This year marks the 100th anniversary of our first headmaster's death." A respectful silence came over the group as they watched Wes place his hand on the tombstone that bore Ignatius Dalton's name. "Tonight, we all, including myself, will bear witness to a unique ritual that has only been performed twice in the entire history of the Sons. We will summon the spirit of Ignatius Dalton and see which songs he chooses for us to perform at Sectionals."

Kurt glanced nervously at Blaine. Blaine merely smiled. "Don't worry, Kurt. It's not like we haven't seen him before."

Kurt nodded, slightly reassured. He had, indeed, seen the ghost of Ignatius Dalton before. He knew that there was nothing to be afraid of. Besides, who knew if this ritual would work? It had, after all, only been attempted twice in the entire history of the Sons of Ignatius Dalton. _Let's just wait and see_, he thought, his heart gently pounding.

Wes gestured for Thad to step forward. "Thad here is somewhat of an expert at conjuring spirits." The boy hung his head in modesty. "His grandmother is a spiritual healer and has taught him the proper way to summon the ghosts of those who have passed." Wes stepped aside and indicated for him to begin.

"Thanks, Wes," he said in a shaky voice. He turned to face the other boys. "All I ask is for absolute silence. I need as much concentration as I can to attempt to bring Dalton to us." The Warblers nodded and watched as Thad turned his back on them.

It was clear that Wes and Thad had rehearsed the ritual. Kurt shot Blaine a nervous side glance. Blaine caught it and smiled kindly in response.

Thad began to chant softly in Latin. "_Resurrectionem ex mortis_," he said repeatedly. Kurt recognized the incantation. Literally, it meant "_Rise from the dead_," but it was commonly translated as "_Come back to life_" or "_Come back to us_." Over and over, Thad repeated the words, slow and soft at first, then faster and louder. The words echoed and reverberated through the woods as a sudden breeze picked up, disrupting the stillness of the night air. All the candles blew out and Kurt watched, intrigued and wide-eyed, as glowing blue orbs began to emerge from the earth surrounding the gravesite.

Thad, who had broken into a sweat, was now screaming the words as the last of the orbs emerged from the grave. They floated momentarily in the air before forming into one long stream of ghostly light. The pale trail playfully flew around the clearing for a moment. Jeff removed his Guy Fawkes mask to fully take in the unbelievable spectacle that was unfolding before his very eyes. "My God…," he whispered.

Blaine rose from his seat on the log and turned to face Kurt. "Wow, that's pretty cool, huh?"

Kurt's eyes widened in horror as the beam of otherworldly light flew directly for Blaine's back. "Blaine, look out!"

The boy turned to face the oncoming spirit, but it was too late. The light hit him square in the chest and he fell over with a thud onto the soft ground.

"NO!" Kurt screamed, throwing himself at Blaine's side. Wes and Thad quickly ran over to the fallen Warbler. Wes put his hand on the boy's wrist, checking for a pulse. "His heart rate is really slow, it must be…"

Wes never finished his sentence, because Blaine sat straight up, his eyes literally glowing as his body acted as spirit medium to Ignatius Dalton's ghost. Blaine's body flailed and danced as his and Dalton's soul conflicted within him. Kurt covered his mouth in fright and tried to pull the boy back as he rose from the ground.

Wes and Thad exchanged a look. "He's channeling Dalton. Blaine's channeling Ignatius Dalton!" They held Kurt back, trying desperately to console the sobbing boy.

"No! Let me go, damn it! We have to save him!" Kurt tore away from the powerful grip, but the hands were back on him within seconds, keeping him at bay. All he could do was watch in horror as his best friend was being manipulated by a ghost. _Don't hurt him, Dalton_, he repeated in his mind. _Please don't hurt him_…

The other Warblers simply looked on in disbelief. They had never seen anything like the event that was taking place before them. Nick felt as if he might faint. Jeff stood glued to his spot. Trent was holding a terrified David in his arms. Their eyes followed Blaine as he continued to convulse and spasm. Then, like the stillness that comes when the eye of a hurricane passes over, Blaine's body went rigid. He stood up straight and immediately began to search for something. He picked up a stick and furiously began writing something in the soft soil of the clearing.

As the boys gingerly gathered around the crouching figure, they saw that he was spelling out words. David called Wes and Thad over. "He must be choosing the songs!"

Thad, Wes, and Kurt ran over to where Blaine was sitting. By the time they were close enough to read, one song had already been written. The Keane classic "Somewhere Only We Know" was etched into the moist soil. The Warblers nodded in approval and whispered excitedly amongst themselves.

Finally, after what seemed many tense moments, Blaine rose and dropped the dirt-covered stick. The other song choice had been written, and the boys began to chatter even more excitedly as they saw Sara Bareilles' "Love Song" in the dirt.

It was Wes who spoke first. "Which one is which? Which is the solo and which is the group number?"

Blaine's glowing blue gaze turned in Wes' direction. He gestured for the boy to come closer. Wes, standing over his shoulder, watched as Blaine pointed to the Keane song and then pointed directly at Kurt. The Warblers cheered and Kurt stared, wide-eyed, at the song choice. He smiled sheepishly in response.

Wes smiled. "Brothers, we have our set-list for Sectionals!" The boys applauded and called out in joy. As the sounds of their celebration filled the clearing, Blaine's body began to flail once more. Kurt, heart pounding, ran over and held the boy up, watching as a ghostly trail of light emerged from Blaine's mouth and flew, once more, back into the grave of Ignatius Dalton.

For a few heart-stopping seconds, Blaine did not move. Kurt nervously shook the boy, trying to resuscitate him. He suddenly coughed and wearily opened his beautiful, honey-gold eyes, which bore into Kurt's own sea-blue ones.

"Blaine?" Kurt whispered the name, sensuously.

The handsome Warbler smiled up at him. "My guardian angel," he said. Kurt could feel his face burning as he blushed. "What happened? Is the ritual over? What songs are we singing?"

Kurt laughed. "I'll tell you all about it in the morning." He threw Blaine's arm over his shoulder and, with the other dispersing Warblers, headed back towards the dormitories.

**To be continued…**


	15. Sneaking Out to Sectionals

**Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the added comments and feedback that I've been receiving. This chapter is long, I realize, but it is filled with Sectionals drama! Also, it's essentially comprised of a series of vignettes. There's a lot of cutting between scenes, but hopefully it works out. Please enjoy, and I thank you as always for following my crazy story!**

"Mr. Anderson, may I speak with you privately for a moment, please?"

Blaine turned towards Ms. Caplesmith's desk as he walked out of Allan Kane's office. He greeted her with a warm smile. He was in high spirits because his dreaded study session had ended for the day and he was looking forward to Sectionals rehearsal that evening with the Sons of Ignatius Dalton. "Good afternoon, Ms. Caplesmith."

The older lady smiled wanly in response. She leaned in closer, almost whispering. "I'm not quite sure how to break this to you," she began, nervously fixing her bun of hair. "I know that Sectionals is a mere three days away, but…" She audibly gulped. "…I'm afraid there is absolutely no way that I can excuse you from Headmaster Kane's study sessions."

Blaine's smile faded. He wasn't so much angry as he was depressed. He had never, in his two years as a Dalton Academy Warbler, missed any competition or performance. The news was a devastating blow to him, and he still could not believe what he had heard.

He simply sighed. "I suppose there isn't a way, is there? He'd be awfully suspicious if I didn't show up, and I certainly don't want to get my friends into trouble either."

Ms. Caplesmith nodded sorrowfully. "I'm awfully sorry to have to do this to you, Blaine, but it's certainly for the better. You might be expelled otherwise."

Blaine shuddered at the thought. He agreed. It did seem for the better, although he still felt awfully hollow inside. "No, you did what you could, and that's more than enough. Thank you for letting me know, Ms. Caplesmith."

The older woman walked around the side of her desk and gave him a hug. Blaine obliged and fell into the embrace. The two held each other for a moment, and Blaine caught the sweet scent of her gardenia perfume. He was truly touched by the gesture as tears rolled down his face. He was never one to show too much emotion or lose his cool, but he decided to release all his inhibitions. It was therapeutic to cry. Kurt had been right. Hugs could cure just about anything.

* * *

><p>Kurt was singing his heart out on the Sectionals stage. With the bright lights in his eyes and the faces of a thousand people staring in wonderment, he felt at home. The Warblers behind him were keeping tempo, and they all smiled at him encouragingly.<p>

He was about to launch into the bridge of his solo when he spotted Dave Karofsky in the audience. Kurt's heart started pounding and he almost completely lost his place. To make matters worse, he tried to turn away, only to find Blaine and Jeremiah making out directly in front-row center. _No_, he thought, frightened. _This can't be happening to me!_

The music began to melt into clamorous noise behind him, and as he turned to face the Warblers, they all transformed into canaries and flew away. The audience had been replaced with identical clones of Ignatius Dalton, staring blankly ahead at the boy onstage. His eyes darted between Karofsky's deadly glares and Blaine and Jeremiah's kissing. Kurt screamed…

Kurt woke to the sound of his own screaming. He was lying on his bed, his geometry book propped open on his stomach. He sat up and caught his breath after the horrendous nightmare he'd had.

Sectionals were only three days away and already his nerves were consuming him. He massaged his temples as he closed his geometry book. "Why do I always fall asleep doing geometry homework?"

He hadn't realized he'd asked aloud until he heard a suave response from the doorway. "Because it's boring?"

Kurt was startled to see Blaine slumped like a reverse question mark against the doorframe. "I thought I heard you screaming down the hallway. Did you have a nightmare?"

The angel-faced boy rubbed his eyes. He obviously wasn't going to mention the complete details. "Yeah, it had to do with Sectionals. I guess my nerves are just getting the better of me."

Blaine plopped down on the bed next to Kurt. "Wow, you're taking this way more seriously than the rest of the group! Dedication is necessary, yes, but so is fun!" He laughed. "Just relax, and don't forget to loosen up and be limber. An audience is only comfortable when the performer is comfortable."

Kurt smiled. "Thanks for the advice, coach." He shook his head. "I'm telling you Blaine, it's a damn good thing an experienced competitor like you will be there to talk me out of my fears. I'm going to need as much reassurance as I can get!"

Had Kurt been paying attention to the boy's face at that moment, he would automatically know that something was wrong. As it was, he could tell from the silence following his statement that Blaine was neglecting to divulge a crucial bit of information.

"Kurt… I'm not going to Sectionals…" Blaine's voice was barely a whisper.

Kurt, who had risen from the bed, turned with an expression that looked as if he'd been slapped in the face. "Wait, what? What do you mean you're not going? You have to be there! You're essentially one of the stars of the glee club!"

Blaine gave a small smile, flattered by Kurt's words. "Ms. Caplesmith just can't find an excuse for me to miss my study sessions with Headmaster Kane. I have no exceptions unless I'm deathly ill. And I don't want to sacrifice your guys' future at Dalton Academy."

Kurt shook his head angrily. "Damn him," he muttered, cursing the headmaster. "This is all Allan Kane's fault. If he hadn't cut the extracurricular activities, we wouldn't even have to trouble Ms. Caplesmith into sneaking us out to Sectionals!"

He turned to face the handsome boy and took his hand in his. Blaine replied by squeezing it affectionately. Kurt looked down at his own shoes, unable to face him. He was in absolute shock. True, he had just transferred to Dalton Academy, but he knew that Blaine attending every performance and competition was something that had become more than tradition for the Warblers. It was a ritual, a legend. It was his first year at the new school, and he wasn't even going to bask in the glory of Sectionals with his best friend? _Damn you, Allan Kane! Damn you to hell!_

Blaine lifted Kurt's chin, forcing the boy to look at him. He smiled warmly. "Hey, I may not be there physically, but I will be there for you and the Warblers every step of the way." Kurt was losing himself in the honey-gold sea of Blaine's eyes. He could not stop looking at Blaine's sensuous lips. God, how he wanted to kiss him in that moment, just to have a little taste of what Jeremiah Evans was so lucky to have.

But no, he knew he couldn't. Instead, he simply nodded. Blaine opened his arms and said, "You know, they say that hugs can cure almost anything." Kurt laughed softly in response, remembering his own words to Blaine. He returned the embrace. As the two sat there, hugging, Kurt could swear he could feel Blaine's heartbeat right against his.

* * *

><p>Wes was calling for order. The Sons were in an uproar regarding Blaine's announcement. They all surrounded him like a pride of hungry lions trapping a helpless zebra. "Brothers, I will have order now!" He banged his gavel against the podium at the front of the old church.<p>

Trent Nixon rose, angrily. "You can't let Kane hold you down, Anderson! That wretched man and his campaigns have gone far enough!" A wave of concurring applause followed as the portly Warbler took a seat.

David paced nervously up and down the aisles. "You realize that we just might lose without you! You're our rock, you're our inspiration! Without you, we're doomed to failure!" Blaine held his hands up in an attempt to disprove David's claims.

"Guys, there's really nothing that can be done." Blaine ran a hand through his hair. "I do not want to jeopardize your future here. If I went with you, the headmaster would be awfully suspicious. He may be vile and cunning, but he's also not stupid. He'd figure out that something was up. Now, I've seen the ability and talent that you guys have on your own. It's amazing! I need not remind you that, although I'm flattered that you think so highly of me, it's high time that other talents and abilities were showcased. This is your chance to shine!" The chaos that followed was absolutely overwhelming. Blaine tried to quiet them down to no avail.

"ENOUGH!" Wes nearly broke the gavel and almost put a hole in the podium. "That's enough from all of you!" They were all startled. Wes upset or angry was one thing, but thoroughly pissed-off Wes was an entirely different species altogether. "Don't you think that you're all jumping to some rash conclusions? Yes, Blaine has always been our sure-fire ticket at competition gold, but even though I hate to admit it, he has a valid point." He knew people would protest, so he shouted "Let me finish!" The immediate silence satisfied him. "This Sectionals competition will allow us to break out of our usual mode. As saddened and pissed off as I am that Blaine cannot join us, he is absolutely right about the talented group we have going for us. And, need I remind you," Wes continued, gesturing towards Kurt. "We have our first counter-tenor soloist in thirty-five years. Or have you all forgotten?"

Kurt blushed modestly as he looked around the room. The Warblers sat in stunned silence, weighing out their options. "But look," Wes pressed on. "Just because Blaine isn't going to be there with us does NOT mean that we still shouldn't give a thousand-and-fifty percent. We have to give it our all! We have to make Ignatius Dalton proud, and show those other schools what a real glee club looks like!"

The uncomfortable silence was replaced with exuberant cries of joy and enthusiasm. Wes put his arm around Blaine's shoulder. "Now, let's continue rehearsing! We essentially have two more nights of straight-up rehearsal. Let's use them wisely!"

The ancient hall of the old church was filled with song as various groups of Warblers jumped into practice with a gusto and enthusiasm that neither Blaine nor Wes had ever seen before.

* * *

><p>The three days passed in the blink of an eye. At six in the morning on the day of Sectionals, Ms. Caplesmith snuck all the Warblers sans Blaine out of their dormitories and led them to the front gate where a luxury bus was awaiting them. A low mist blanketed the grounds and the pre-sunrise twilight cast the school in shades of dark blue.<p>

Kurt held his satchel over his shoulder, his heart thudding with a combination of excitement and pain. His first competition as a Warbler (and his first-ever solo) had arrived! Yet, on the opposite end of the spectrum, he was dismal because he was not sharing it with Blaine.

Ms. Caplesmith assembled the boys in front of the bus and did a quick head count. "Alright, that's all of you then. I am so proud of you all. Your big day has arrived! Now don't forget, at the end of the day, it'll be as if you've been here all this time." She smiled warmly. "Now go forth, Warblers, and bring back the gold!" The boys all crowded the older woman and gave her a big group hug. As they disengaged, Ms. Caplesmith wiped a tear away from her eye. "I desperately wish I could go with you."

Thad smiled in response. "We understand, Ms. Caplesmith. Thank you for all your support." She watched as they boarded the bus.

Kurt was opting to sit morosely alone in the back, but Jeff plopped down on the seat next to him. "Oh, no. You are not, by any means, spending your first competition with us all by yourself!" Kurt laughed and smiled at the blonde Warbler. He was a wonderful friend.

"I wish you all the luck in the world!" Ms. Caplesmith waved as the bus headed down the tree-lined drive. The boys waved back at her until they rounded a corner and watched her disappear behind some bushes.

* * *

><p>The Huntington Center in Toledo, Ohio was by no means the largest concert venue in the state, but to the Dalton Academy Warblers, it could just as easily have been as big and grandiose as the Taj Mahal. It was certainly the largest venue that they'd ever performed in, and as they ventured onto its vast stage a good three hours before the competition was set to start, they marveled at the fact that they were even there to begin with. They felt blessed with luck and were thankful for the woman whose undying love and faith in them was so strong that she would even go as far as to sacrifice her standing at Dalton Academy just to get them there.<p>

Kurt paced back and forth on the stage. The entire experience was quite surreal. Of course, he had performed to small packed theatres while on the New Directions, but he had never been to an arena of this size. His heart thudded excitedly and nervously as he imagined the stands filled to capacity with people.

Kurt's daydream came to an abrupt halt as Wes approached him. "It's a great-looking venue, isn't it? This is only the third time in Warbler history that we have had the chance to perform in an arena-type setting." Kurt shot him a worried look. Wes grinned, laughing. "No pressure, of course." His smile was replaced by a serious, stoic expression. "No, but in all honesty Kurt, you'll be fine, I know it. Don't even sweat it. You're a very talented performer, and I'm sure you'll wow them and leave them wanting more." He patted him on the back as he advised the other Warblers to head over to the green room to physically, mentally, and emotionally prepare for Sectionals.

Kurt remained glued to the stage for a few minutes. He closed his eyes. "Boy, Blaine, how I wish you were here." He sighed and was about to trudge to the green room when his phone vibrated. It was a text. Kurt picked up the phone and read the message from Blaine:

_Hey, I'm sorry I couldn't see you off this morning. Ms. Caplesmith didn't tell me until after I woke up. Anyway, I just want to wish you 'break a leg.' You'll be a smash, I know it. And don't forget to have fun! Remember, I may not be there physically, but I will most definitely be there for you all the way. Go get 'em, tiger. _

The message concluded with a wink emoticon. Kurt smiled, his heart taking flight. With an extra bounce in his step, he waltzed over to the green room. He knew, if not for anybody else, he was doing his solo for Blaine.

* * *

><p>Wes led the Warblers in a series of vocal warm-ups as crowds of people were being admitted into the arena. Kurt was seated on a sofa in the green room, heart racing uncontrollably, and was staring blankly into space, going over the words of "Somewhere Only We Know" in his mind. Jeff plopped down next to him, chewing bubble gum.<p>

The pungent, sweet scent of the gum brought Kurt out of his emotional coma. "Bubble gum?"

Jeff blew a large bubble that audibly "popped." "Yes, bubble gum. It helps me concentrate and relax." He chewed quietly for a few seconds before he spoke again. "Oh, by the way, there's someone from the New Directions who's waiting to see you."

Kurt rose from the couch and headed for the door, only to find Rachel Berry standing in the entryway. He smiled, for it had been truly a long while since he'd seen her.

Thad rose and pointed an accusatory finger at her. "Spy!" The other Warblers looked up in surprise. "You must leave at once!"

"No, no it's okay!" Kurt put Thad's extended arm down. "She's here to see me!"

"Oh…" Thad sniffed, adjusted his uniform, and looked apologetic as he walked back into the room. "Carry on then." Kurt stifled a giggle as he turned to face Rachel.

"Hey," she said, softly.

"Hey!" The two hugged. Kurt found it strange that they were both being so friendly towards each other, when back at McKinley, they had been bitter rivals. "How are you guys doing?"

"We're good, we're doing very well. Sue's still trying to ruin us and Mr. Schue still has some on-going drama/tension with Ms. Pillsbury…" They both shared a laugh. "We've been seeing from your Facebook statuses that your new principal wouldn't even allow you to go to Sectionals. He sounds like an awful man! How did you manage to convince him?"

Kurt gave a wry smile. "Let's just say, we didn't. It's a rather long story…"

Rachel nodded knowingly. "Well, either way, you're here! I must admit, it does feel really strange not having to compete with you for a solo."

Kurt grinned. "Oh, speaking of solos, guess who's doing the Dalton Academy solo number today?"

Rachel's eyes widened. "Kurt, that's amazing!" She hugged him and jumped up and down excitedly. "I am so proud of you! What are you singing?"

"You'll find out soon enough." The lights suddenly flickered on and off, signifying that the competition was about to begin. "Well, I guess we'd better go," Kurt said as the two embraced once more.

"You'll be great! Break a leg, honey," Rachel replied. She gave him the thumbs up as she ran back towards the New Directions' green room. He watched her retreating figure before he responded, "You too."

* * *

><p>"<em>How far are you in the program? Have you guys gone yet?<em>"

Jeff held his cell phone close to his ear. He was talking to Blaine. "No, we're about to. The Hipsters just went up, and we're next."

"_Damn those Hipsters! Audiences love adorable old folks_…"

Jeff paced back and forth in the now empty green room. Blaine had called only seconds earlier, just to see how the competition was progressing. "Wait, how do you have time to make a phone call, Blaine?" Jeff was dumbfounded. "Aren't you in study session with Headmaster Kane?"

Blaine chuckled. "_I told him I had a bad stomach. He was glad to be rid of me for a little while_." Jeff wrinkled his nose in disgust just as David ran into the room.

"JEFF! What the hell are you on the phone for? They're about to announce us and we best be ready!"

Jeff looked flustered, speaking rapidly into the phone. "It's show time!"

"_Wait! Can you keep me on the line? I want to hear you guys!_"

"Alright, got it!" Jeff ran over to David. "Could you keep my phone somewhere backstage? It's Blaine. He wants to hear our performances."

David nodded, seizing the phone and placing it on a small table in the stage left wings.

Back at Dalton, Blaine was sitting in a tiny abandoned classroom, eagerly awaiting the start of Kurt's solo. He closed his eyes. "Don't worry, Kurt. You're going to be great, I just know it…"

* * *

><p>Kurt stood directly behind the closed curtain. To his right, Wes took a seat on the piano bench. He would be serving as Kurt's accompanist for the solo. Wes scanned the sheet music for the number. He caught Kurt fidgeting in the corner of his eye. "You aren't nervous, are you Kurt?"<p>

The boy heaved a shaky sigh. "I'm trying my best not to be. I've never done a solo in public before."

Wes smiled up at him. "Listen, we all believe in you. We wouldn't have chosen you if we felt you weren't ready for this." Just then, they heard applause from the other side of the curtain, signifying that the emcee was about to announce them. Wes grinned. "Are you ready?"

Kurt smiled. "As ready as I'll ever be." He gulped, and took a firm stand.

* * *

><p>"Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that I present to you, all the way from Westerville, Ohio, four-time Ohio Show Choir Sectionals Competition winners the Dalton Academy Warblers!"<p>

Back at Dalton Academy, over the phone, Blaine held his breath. "Come on, Kurt! It's your chance to shine!"

Kurt continued to hold his ground as the curtain rose. He saw the audience collectively applaud as he forced his feet to venture to the microphone that had been set up directly downstage center.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he said "This song is for Blaine Anderson, who couldn't be here with us today."

Miles away, Blaine pressed the phone firmly to his ear as he recognized Kurt's voice. A big grin came on his face.

"Blaine, listen closely, because I know you love this song…" Kurt smirked and turned to nod at Wes, who immediately launched into the beautiful piano intro of the song. Kurt closed his eyes in rapture as he let the music enter his soul and fill him with joy and happiness. He grabbed the mic in its stand and started to croon the words:

"_I walked across an empty land. I knew the pathway like the back of my hand,_

_I felt the earth beneath my feet, sat by the river and it made me complete…_"

Blaine listened quietly and intently, allowing the sheer imagery of the lyrics to paint an elaborate, colorful picture in his mind. He closed his eyes and smiled.

"_Oh, simple thing. Where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on._

_So tell me when you're gonna let me in. I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin…_"

Backstage, David and Jeff watched in awe as Kurt continued to plow through the song. "Wow," Jeff whispered to David. "I'd say we've got a real keeper here this time!" David grinned and nodded vigorously.

Meanwhile, in the abandoned classroom at Dalton, Blaine's eyes were welling up with tears of unadulterated joy. He was never one to cry either watching or partaking in a performance, but there was such a profound beauty to Kurt's rendition of the Keane classic. An involuntary shiver of excitement ran down his spine. It almost felt as if the boy were singing directly to him…

Blaine's smile slowly faded as the hint of a realization crept into his consciousness.

Kurt decided to go bold and took the mic out of its stand as he started working the stage. The audience cheered, and he could especially hear the calls from his friends in the New Directions.

"_I came across a fallen tree. I felt the branches of it looking at me,_

_Is this the place we used to love? Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?_"

As the music crescendoed, Blaine's heart started to race. _It's like I'm hearing him for the first time_…

"_And if you have a minute, why don't we go? Talk about it, somewhere only we know?_

_This could be the end of ev'rything, so why don't we go somewhere only we know?_"

Blaine sat back in his seat as the realization hit him right on. "No, no it can't be…!" He shook his head, trying desperately to ignore the strange feelings he was having for the boy who was now spilling his guts in song over the phone.

Kurt finished the song smoothly and softly, and as the lights came back up, the arena was filled with cheers and shouts of approval. Kurt grinned, his heart swelling with pride and from the familiar thrill of live performance. He took a bow as the cheering seemed to show no signs of stopping.

Blaine clapped and smiled as he heard the uproar over the phone. He was very proud of Kurt, knowing that he was in his happy place. Still, he continued to repeatedly shake his head. "I'm not falling for Kurt, I am _not _for Kurt!" And yet, no matter how hard he tried, the smile on his face, the racing of his heart, and the flutter in his stomach seemed to prove otherwise.

* * *

><p>After what felt many minutes of applause, Kurt replaced the microphone in its stand. "Ladies and gentlemen," he indicated the uniformed boys who now stood on the stage. "…The Dalton Academy Warblers!"<p>

Kurt rushed to join one of the lines as the Warblers set up the repetitive vocal tempo of "Love Song." Jeff stepped forward and took the first line:

"_Head under water, and they tell me to breathe easy for a while…_"

Trent took the next lyric, taking a place next to the blonde Warbler:

"_The breathing gets harder, even I know that…_"

Thad jumped in with the following lyric as he and the other two formed a line:

"_Blank stares at blank pages, no easy way to say this…_"

Finally, David took the last lyric before the main chorus:

"_You mean well, but you make this hard on me…_"

The crowd cheered as the rest of the Warblers stepped downstage, their voices filling the arena:

"_I'm not gonna write you a love song 'cause you asked for it 'cause you need one, you see…_"

Blaine threw his hands up in the air in joy as he heard the audience cheer and clap along with the song. He smiled, imagining Kurt grinning from ear to ear. _You're doing great, Kurt_, he thought to himself.

"_I'm not gonna write you a love song 'cause you tell me it's make or break in this if you're on your way…_"

Kurt found Rachel and the other New Directions members in the audience. They were all smiling and cheering for their expatriate glee-clubber. He could see Mercedes dancing along to the rhythm and Finn trying desperately to mimic her moves, but to no avail. Artie was giving him a thumbs-up while Mr. Schuester was grinning encouragingly. Brittany gazed at the stage blankly. The sight of them all brought waves of nostalgia and made Kurt smile.

"_I'm not gonna write you to stay. If all you have is leaving, I'm gon' need a better reason to write you a love song today_."

The song finished and the crowd went wild. Kurt laughed and pointed to the New Directions with a wink. The sea of navy-blue blazers lined up and took a quick bow before exiting the stage.

Miles away, Blaine fist-pumped the air as the sound of cheers nearly deafened him over the phone. However, realizing that he'd been gone too long from his study session, he reluctantly hung up, but began working on a mass text message on his way back to the headmaster's office.

* * *

><p>Everyone's phone started buzzing, beeping, or vibrating in the green room following the Warblers' performance. The boys all smiled as they received the congratulatory text from Blaine, praising their performances. Kurt, on the other hand, received a different one:<p>

_I heard you over the phone. You were, seriously, amazing, Kurt! Thanks for the dedication at the beginning. It was very sweet of you. How fitting that you were chosen to sing my favorite song! Oh, by the way, I have something to tell you. I'll see you when you get back! _

Kurt could barely keep the excitement from showing on his face. However, he kept thinking about what Blaine had to tell him. His heart was racing at the very idea, imagining all the possibilities. The suspense was definitely going to kill him.

* * *

><p>The New Directions, as usual, rocked their songs, and Kurt was surprised at the change in the line-up. Whereas Finn and Rachel were mostly the couple represented in the duet number, they had been replaced by the lovely Quinn Fabray and newbie Sam Evans. They sang a rousing rendition of the <em>Dirty Dancing <em>hit "(I've Had) the Time of My Life," which was followed by the group number "Valerie." Kurt applauded at the conclusion of their performances, and the other Warblers cheered them on.

Finally, the moment arrived that the three competing glee clubs had been waiting for: the announcing of the winner of Sectionals. The Hipsters, the Warblers, and the New Directions all emerged on the stage as the audience roared their approval. Kurt greeted his old friends and introduced them to his fellow Warblers, ("You're blonde. I'm blonde. Let's make beautiful blonde babies," Brittany said to a perplexed and shocked Jeff. Kurt stifled a laugh, which proved very difficult in that moment.) The two glee clubs mingled for a second before the emcee addressed the audience.

"And now, the moment we've all been waiting for! It's time to see who will take home the gold and progress to Regionals in March! Drum roll, please!" The audience began clapping their hands on their knees that created a rumble throughout the arena.

"In third place…" The emcee opened an envelope that vaguely reminded Kurt of the Academy Awards. "…The Hipsters!" The audience made some noise for the elderly glee club as they congratulated the Warblers and New Directions before leaving the stage. Kurt and Rachel held hands and smiled at each other.

"And now, the winner of the Central Ohio Show Choir Sectionals Competition is…" The emcee opened the envelope with a flourish. His expression remained stoic as he read the card for what felt to be an eternity. "Oh my, it seems that we have, for the first time in thirteen years ladies and gentlemen, a two-way tie! Both the McKinley High New Directions and the Dalton Academy Warblers will be advancing to Regionals in Columbus, Ohio in March!"

Both glee clubs quickly absorbed the shock, and the two began to cheer. Members from both the New Directions and the Warblers embraced as the two glee clubs were awarded their respective trophies. Tears of joy streamed down Kurt's face as he and Rachel hugged.

"Oh my god, we did it! We both won! Together!" Rachel was so excited that she squeezed Kurt in a vice-like hug. They were both overjoyed as their cheers mingled with the adoration from the audience.

* * *

><p>That evening, the Warblers gathered in the senior commons for a small celebration over their victory. Ms. Caplesmith and Blaine were sitting on the leather sofa. Wes, carrying the trophy, presented it to the two.<p>

"Ms. Caplesmith and Blaine Anderson, as a token of our esteem and appreciation of your undying love and support of our glee club, we would like to offer this trophy to you two for being there for us today at Sectionals!"

The boys clapped as Ms. Caplesmith and Blaine held the trophy up between them. Blaine's eyes scanned the room until he found Kurt, seated in the back. He winked at the boy, and Kurt could immediately feel his face flush.

The Warblers swarmed Ms. Caplesmith. Blaine removed himself from the crowd and took a seat next to Kurt on the cushy love seat in the corner of the room. "Nice solo, Mr. Hummel…"

Kurt playfully slapped him on the arm. "Thanks, though I honestly don't know if I could have done it if I hadn't replayed all your words of encouragement in my head."

Blaine smiled. "See? I told you I'd be there for you, even if I wasn't physically present."

Kurt chuckled. "Oh, what did you want to tell me?"

He swore he saw Blaine freeze for a split-second. "What's that?"

"You sent me a text after our performance at Sectionals. You told me you had to tell me something. What did you want to tell me?"

"Oh, that!" Blaine seemed flustered. "Look, Kurt…" He took the boy's hand and held it. "There's a moment…"

Jeff clinked his punch glass as he stood over his phonograph. He had just cranked it up and it was now playing an upbeat swing tune. "Everybody raise your glass! I'd like to make a toast to our awesome soloist, Kurt Hummel!"

The Warblers all raised their glasses in Kurt's direction, causing the boy to smile bashfully. They clapped, and Jeff came over to where Blaine was seated. "May I borrow Kurt for a moment?"

Blaine did all he could to remain stoic-faced. "Yes, of course!" Jeff smiled and led Kurt to the middle of the room where the two launched into a fast-paced jitterbug. Kurt laughed as Jeff danced around him, and Blaine watched as the other boys all took turns swing dancing with him. Ms. Caplesmith snapped along with the tempo of the song and cheered as the boys danced around the room.

Blaine chuckled to himself, missing the opportunity to tell Kurt about his newly-discovered feelings. _I'll tell him_, he thought. _I'll tell him when the time is right_. _But first, I have to break up with Jeremiah…_ THAT could be problematic...

**To be continued…**


	16. The Botched Birthday

**Hello Fanfic-ers! Thank you for all your wonderful comments on the Sectionals chapter! It was indeed a lot of fun to write. However, if you felt that chapter to be juicy and chock full of drama, I've included even more in this one! Also, I've given Jeff Honeycutt a little bit more in terms of character development. You'll definitely be hearing more about Jeff in coming chapters! Oh, and Headmaster Kane is, as always, up to his awful tricks. Please enjoy! **

Wes held his hands up for silence. The cloaked boys all turned to face him and a hush filled the old church. Kurt smiled in Blaine's general direction. The boy responded with an awkward grin.

The senior councilmember smiled as he produced the Sectionals trophy cup. The Sons cheered loudly.

"Brothers," Wes began with fiery passion. "We, along with the McKinley High New Directions, have advanced to Regionals in Columbus, Ohio in two months!"

More applause followed. "Let this be cause for a great celebration! However, we must not falter, for now that we have completed Sectionals, the judges will most definitely be expecting us to bring even more to the table. It's time to step up our game."

The boys all nodded in agreement. "We will rise to the occasion, and we will leave that audience and those judges dumbfounded! We will sing, move, and perform like no group of Warblers has ever done before!"

The dimly-lit sanctuary was filled with a wall of noise as the Sons continued to shout. "Amen!" Trent Nixon and Joe Holden held their hands up high.

"Also," Wes continued. "Ms. Ivy Caplesmith, who so firmly believes in us and supports us in our endeavors, has once again volunteered to provide transportation to and from the Regionals competition!" A smattering of claps and calls followed this statement. "May this woman be forever blessed for the kindness and allegiance she has shown us. Tonight, her name will be added to our hall of fame. Tonight, she will become an honorary Warbler!"

The boys began to clap and chant "Ivy! Ivy!" repeatedly until the room was filled with a deafening roar. Wes and Thad stepped into the center of the old church, holding up a brand new Dalton Academy blazer with the name "Ivy" written in red, cursive letters just above the signature "D" patch. The Sons began to dance and circle about the room, their shadows flickering in the candlelight, mimicking on the ceiling the exuberance of those below.

* * *

><p>Kurt hid behind one of the massive Doric columns at the front of the Main Hall. He was dressed all incognito with his Gucci sunglasses, scarf, and pea coat. He was scanning the grounds, surveying the area for any lingering students. When he saw that there were indeed none, he started to sprint across the campus.<p>

The week following Sectionals had been filled with gossip and excited chatter regarding the Warblers and especially Kurt's epic solo. Kurt felt amazingly like a celebrity as students pushed past one another to ask him about his performance. It got to a point where, over the course of that week, he wore his sunglasses multiple times, even when it was cold and snowing outside, so that he wouldn't be stopped as often and be late for class. _This must be how Lady Gaga feels_, he thought to himself. He had to admit, he was flattered by all the attention, but he was also shocked and amazed that a school could respect and take glee club so seriously.

During the course of his sprint, Kurt kept checking his surroundings to be sure that no one was following him or trying to catch him. He wasn't looking to see where he was going and collided head-on with another student. The two fell to the ground.

Kurt shook his rattled head and felt as if his nose had exploded. He could feel the liquid warmth of the blood as it trickled out of his nose. As he opened his eyes, he saw that it was Blaine he had run into. The handsome boy had fallen as well, directly on top of Kurt.

The two panted from exhaustion and from the force of the impact. They looked directly into each other's eyes and Kurt could see something in Blaine's eyes that he was certain he hadn't seen before. It was a spark of something he just couldn't place.

"I—I'm sorry," Kurt said softly. "I should have been watching where…" His voice trailed off as he was caught in the gravitational pull of Blaine's intense gaze.

Blaine suddenly snapped. "You're bleeding, Kurt!" He quickly scrambled to his feet and offered his hand in an attempt to help the fallen boy up. "We'd better take you over to the hospital wing."

"Oh, it's not so bad! I'm sure it's nothing a little cold compress or a bandage can't handle." Kurt gingerly touched his upper lip and saw the smeared blood on his fingertips. He had to admit that it was quite a lot, and his nose felt a little sore.

But Blaine wouldn't have it. He grabbed Kurt by the arm and led the way to the hospital wing.

* * *

><p>"Here, hold this to your nose," Mrs. Rayburn, the head nurse, said as she gently placed an ice compress to Kurt's slightly swollen nose.<p>

"Is it broken, Mrs. Rayburn?" Blaine seemed worried and concerned.

The gray-haired woman turned and smiled warmly. "It'll heal in no time. Mr. Hummel ran into you pretty hard, though. If he had been running any faster, then we would have a nasal fracture on our hands. Once the hemorrhaging stops, it'll only take a few days to return to normal."

Blaine looked relieved at the news, and Kurt felt it absolutely sweet of him to be so worked up over something so minor.

Mrs. Rayburn folded her hands and smiled. "So, that's it! If you boys have any further inquiries, just give me a shout! I'll be in the next room."

"Thank you, ma'am," Kurt and Blaine replied in unison as they watched her disappear through an old wooden door into the hospital wing's main office.

Blaine looked up sheepishly at Kurt, who was seated on a gurney directly in front of him. "How does it feel?"

Kurt laughed and the sound was nasally. "It's fine," he said with an equally nasally voice due to the fact that the ice compress was covering his nose. "Don't even worry about it! It's my fault. I'm the one who should have been looking."

Blaine was still watching Kurt intently as if he were a bomb that was due to go off at any minute. Kurt felt slightly uncomfortable, although he'd seen the look before. Blaine had been acting strangely detached and distant all week, and Kurt had absolutely no explanation for the bizarre behavior. Then, more often than not, Kurt kept catching the boy giving him these peculiar stares. He wondered what was going on behind the blank expression.

Kurt cleared his throat. "You really don't have to stay, you know. I'm perfectly capable of holding an ice pack to my nose without the magic of your healing stare."

The handsome Warbler seemed to snap out of his reverie. "Are you sure? You'll be alright?"

Kurt sighed and laughed at the same time. "Blaine, if this is how you react to a little nosebleed, I'd hate to think of how you'd be if I fell out of a tree and cracked my head open."

Blaine suppressed a laugh. Kurt reached out and took the boy's hand, and even this most miniscule of contacts sent an electric charge up his arm and into his heart. "It's very sweet of you to be so concerned. Now, go. I'll be just fine."

The honey-gold gaze met his own as the boy smiled and left. Kurt watched Blaine's retreating back with concern. _What's gotten into you, Blaine Anderson?_ Kurt thought to himself.

* * *

><p>Allan Kane sat back in his chair, reading a printout of Blaine Anderson's most recent progress report. He was filled with rage and disgust as his eyes thoroughly scanned the paper. As usual, it was filled with only the best and highest marks.<p>

Of course, George Anderson's son had to be so academically perfect. _Like father, like_ _son_, Allan thought to himself with an angry shudder. He could have kicked himself for not being as firm with Blaine as he had originally intended. Here, he was overworking Blaine to death with insistent and relentless homework assignments, and his grades hadn't even faltered in the slightest? He banged his fist on the desk. _Damn him!_

It was then that Allan turned toward his computer, the hint of an idea forming somewhere on the edge of his mind. Since the PC was already on, he immediately brought up the student files folder and perused until he found Blaine's file.

With a simple click of the "delete" button, all of the boy's most recent grades were erased. "Ooops, silly me…" Allan feigned confusion and innocence as he started inputting new grades altogether. He watched the screen and laughed wickedly. _The sins of the father…_ Allan had sworn that he would make Blaine Anderson's life a living academic hell, and he'd be damned if he didn't live up to that promise.

* * *

><p>Kurt sank into Jeff's beanbag chair. It was so comfortable, and after the lengthy day that he'd had, he could have easily crashed right then and there in the blonde Warbler's dormitory. Jeff was somewhere by his four-poster bed, teaching himself the tango as the phonograph played an old Argentine dance record in the background.<p>

"I just can't help but feel that Blaine's hiding something from me," Kurt said, just when he thought he couldn't sink any deeper into the silky bliss of the beanbag.

"What makes you think that?" Jeff did a quick dip and spin with his invisible dance partner.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm just going crazy, but I've been noticing that, ever since Sectionals, he's been really weird and awkward around me. It's the way he looks at me. He stares as if I were an explosive device that was bound to blow at any given moment."

Jeff chuckled. "Well, we _have_ heard you scream before. You haven't been angry around him, have you?" Kurt reddened and threw the blonde Warbler a heated look. He giggled. "I don't know what to tell you, but if I had to venture a guess, I'd say Blaine was interested in you."

Kurt had never sat up quicker before in his life. He almost felt dizzy from the rush of blood to his head. "What? How do you know that? Jeff Honeycutt, you tell me, or I swear I'll…"

"Whoa! Scary Kurt! Take it easy! It's just a hunch!" Jeff held his hands up in self-defense. Kurt realized that his hands were balled up into fists. He quickly retracted them and forced them into the pockets of his blazer.

"How do you know then?" Kurt had regained his outward composure, despite the fact that his heart was thumping and clanking around excitedly in his chest.

"Well, a couple of years ago, when Blaine was a freshman, there was this senior in the Warblers named Larson…"

_Larson? _Kurt asked himself. _What is it with Blaine and guys with strange names?_ He didn't elaborate on the thought when he came to the realization that Jeff was still speaking.

"Larson was one of the council members at the time because Wes, David, and Thad were mere sophomores," Jeff continued. "Anyway, Blaine started to really dig on this guy, and he acted in a way similar to what you're describing." He shrugged. "It may well be the case, but who knows? Then again, when Blaine takes an interest in somebody, he does absolutely nothing to hide it. The boy is terribly obvious." Jeff laughed as he resumed his one-person tango around the room.

Kurt suddenly had an idea. Actually, it was more like an epiphany, as it appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "Hey, Blaine's birthday's coming up, isn't it?"

Jeff stopped in the middle of the room and lowered his arms from his invisible partner. "February 5th, I believe is the date. Why?"

Kurt grinned, rubbing his hands together wickedly. "I'm going to plan a birthday dinner for him on the 5th, just the two of us. If I see any signs or hints of flirtation or interest during the evening, any at all, then this is definitely something worth pursuing."

Kurt lingered over his plan for a moment before Jeff spoke. "Pursuing? Please, you've been chasing after him since you transferred here!"

Kurt closed the distance between the two by slapping the blonde boy on the arm. "Ow…" Jeff mouthed with a pained smile.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hey, good-looking, how's it going? Does the birthday boy have any plans for next Saturday night?<em>"

Blaine gulped, thankful in that moment that he could not be seen over the phone. The voice at the other end of the conversation was trying to be sultry and had a seductive Mae West quality and tone to it. It was Jeremiah, but Blaine knew he couldn't simply ignore the call. Jeremiah would suspect that something was wrong. Blaine was tormented with guilt and frustration ever since his revelation during Sectionals. How could he face his boyfriend and tell him that he had taken an interest in his best friend?

The handsome Warbler tried to muster as much conviction as he could into his voice. "I've not thought much about it. Why do you ask?"

He could almost see Jeremiah smirking in amusement. "_I just thought I'd take you out. Dinner, dancing, maybe some quality time to ourselves…_" Blaine sensed an underlying meaning in the boy's tone, but merely shrugged it off.

Despite the moral war he was having with his conscience, Blaine answered, "Yeah, I'd love to!"

"_Great! I'll see you next Saturday. I'll be by to pick you up at the front gate around 7:00 pm. I love you._"

Blaine once again forced himself to say the words. "I love you, too." They seemed to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. He heard the phone click and breathed a sigh of relief that the conversation was over.

The reason why he had opted for going out with Jeremiah was simply because he knew he had to tell him that he just didn't feel the same way anymore. Whether Jeremiah would understand or not was a different matter altogether. He felt absolutely awful about it, but he knew it was the right thing to do. He couldn't go on pretending to be happy with somebody while continuing to lead them on. That would just be cruel and heartless.

Blaine was thankful, however, that the dinner date was a week away. He knew he would need all the time to muster up the courage to finally confront Jeremiah.

* * *

><p>The day before Blaine's birthday, Kurt strategically placed himself at the foot of the grand staircase in Weston Hall on the South Side of campus. He knew that at the stroke of noon, the gorgeous Warbler would descend the flight of stairs direct from his history class and head over to the student dining hall alone for lunch. It was then that Kurt was planning to seize the opportunity to ask Blaine out to birthday dinner.<p>

Kurt leaned against the wall, pretending to be engulfed in his copy of The Great Gatsby. He kept sneaking glances over the book to see if he could find Blaine amidst the waterfall of identical blazers and sweaters that was rapidly descending the staircase. It was easier done than said, for there, at the top, was Blaine.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the boy with the golden eyes held the railing and took each step with great care. Kurt marveled at his chiseled jaw, his well-coiffed locks and his blazing golden eyes. He enjoyed moments like these. It was almost as if he were seeing Blaine for the first time all over again. Kurt wondered how it was possible that someone could be so startlingly beautiful.

"Hey, Blaine!"

Blaine looked around, wondering who had called out to him. When he reached the foot of the staircase, he saw that it was Kurt. He smiled softly. "Hey, Kurt! What's going on?"

Kurt nervously fixed his hair. Why did this plan seem so much easier before he met with Blaine face-to-face? "Oh, not much!" He laughed a little too loudly. "I just wanted to see if you were heading over to the dining hall for lunch."

Blaine seemed a little confused. "Oh, no I'm sorry. I'm heading over to the Main Hall. Headmaster Kane wants to see me about something." He rolled his eyes. "Wish me luck!" Blaine turned to leave.

Kurt watched his retreating figure in a panic. "Blaine, wait! I was just wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me tomorrow night for your birthday!"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted ever shouting them. A crowd of boys were walking through the hall at that very moment. They whispered and cooed silently amongst themselves as their heads darted between Kurt and Blaine. He could feel his face flush with color.

Blaine froze. He slowly turned and walked back to the embarrassed Kurt. "You remembered it was my birthday?" He stopped. His face was a mere inch away from Kurt's.

Kurt was losing himself in the intense gaze. "Y—Yeah, of course I remembered."

Blaine smirked. "Is this an invitation, or a date?"

Kurt's heart pounded so hard that he thought it would fly out of his chest and soar into the air. "Well, n—no! Not like a date, really. Just a little something between friends, you know? I just thought, since it's your birthday, maybe you'd want to grab a bite to eat at a local place! Nothing extremely fancy, of course, just…"

Blaine held his hand up, signifying that the boy should probably stop rambling. He smiled warmly. "It was a joke, Kurt. And I'd love to! But is it okay if we could meet around 9:00? I'm going to be at my aunt's all day, and then I have something very important to do in the evening." He was referring to Jeremiah, but he doubted that would take the entire night. "Where did you have in mind?"

Kurt tried to keep his voice from cracking. "I was thinking Robard's Steakhouse here in Westerville. I heard that you really like that place…"

Blaine flashed his megawatt smile. "I love that place! Sure, I'll most definitely be there!" He patted Kurt on the arm and strode away with an extra bounce in his step. Unbeknownst to Kurt, Blaine could have skipped for joy.

Kurt smiled and laughed to himself. However, he quickly realized that the crowd of boys that had assembled were still watching him with great interest. "Oh, mind your own business," he giggled as he walked away to uproarious applause.

* * *

><p>"What?"<p>

Blaine stood dead still in the middle of the headmaster's office. Allan Kane was seated behind his desk, trying so hard not to laugh at the boy's stupid expression on his face.

"Face it, Mr. Anderson. Your grades haven't gone up at all since your study sessions began! As a matter of fact, they've dropped significantly. It's clear that you're having difficulty with these subjects…"

"I am NOT having difficulty!" Blaine was furious. Something just wasn't adding up in his mind. He had spoken with his teachers, who had assured him that his grades were fine. Was someone tampering with his marks? No, that couldn't have been it. That was illegal! And no one in the faculty would be able to ever get away with such a heinous crime.

"DO NOT RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME!" Headmaster Kane rose defensively like a lawyer in a courtroom. "You have no right to be angry at me! What fault is it of mine? Your lack of intelligence is not my responsibility."

Blaine reserved his most hated, vengeful look at the wretched man who stood before him. He was so cruel and vile. He wondered how anyone like that could become the principal of a school. "Fine, since you call all the shots around here, what do you advise I do?" Blaine was not bothering to even attempt to show him any respect anymore.

The trace of a sneer appeared at the corner of Headmaster Kane's mouth. "I would encourage you to hold your tongue around me, Mr. Anderson. It is most unbecoming." He walked over to where the boy was standing. "Besides, I have the power to expel you should I see fit. I could even do it right now…" The headmaster's voice softened into a horrific whisper. "But I won't. I believe in giving all my students a second chance, even the ones who don't deserve it!"

The headmaster slithered back to his desk and took a seat. He looked up at Blaine with a sly smile. "Starting on Monday, your study sessions will be extended from the end of the school day to 9pm."

"You can't do that!" Blaine was absolutely flustered.

The headmaster leaned over his desk menacingly. "I can do whatever I want! I'm the god damn headmaster, and don't you forget it!"

Blaine, though still enraged, was stunned. He had never, in all his years of education, seen anyone snap in such a way before.

Allan Kane straightened himself and continued. "There are no exceptions. Do you understand me?"

Blaine simmered, wishing at that moment that his gaze was filled with actual daggers. He was about to respond when the headmaster relentlessly shouted, "DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR, MR. ANDERSON?"

"Yes… _Sir_." Blaine spat the words and immediately turned on his heel and slammed the office door shut. Allan Kane started to laugh maniacally as one of his framed credentials fell to the floor with a crash. "The sins of the father…," he sing-songed all the way back to his swivel chair. "Let the bad times roll."

* * *

><p>Saturday was moving way too quickly for Kurt's liking. He even tried to make it go slower by studying and doing homework. But time can be relentless when it wants to be, and Kurt found himself nearly panicking when he looked at the clock and it read 8:00 pm.<p>

It's not that he was afraid of the idea of dinner with Blaine. The fact that he had mustered up the courage to even ask the boy out at all was what terrified him. He was putting added pressure on himself for some reason, and he didn't know what he could do to calm himself down.

As Kurt fumbled through his closet, in search of something comfortable (and fashionable) to wear, there was a knock on his door. "Come in," he shouted from within his wardrobe.

Jeff peeked through the door, but didn't see Kurt anywhere in the room. "Hey, Kurt! Sorry, I know you're getting ready, but they're having a film retrospective of _The Philadelphia Story_ at the Uptown Cinema on Tuesday night, and I was wondering if you wanted to go… Where are you?"

Kurt emerged, flustered, with a Marc Jacobs sweater on his head and a dress sock draped over his shoulder. Jeff suppressed a laugh. "Well, I never thought I'd see the day when you would come out of the closet _again_!"

Kurt, in spite of his panic, chuckled. "Oh, Jeff, I'm so glad you're here!"

Jeff tilted his head. "What's the matter? Are you worried about your date?"

"IT'S NOT A DATE!" Kurt pulled the sweater off his head, curled it into a ball, and threw it at the armoire. Jeff stared, startled at the sudden outburst. "I'm sorry," Kurt replied calmly. "It's just a birthday dinner between friends." He looked up at Jeff, and found the boy raising his eyebrow in doubt.

Kurt sighed heavily. "Okay, maybe I want it to be a date. Still, I'm not used to asking guys out. I'm not well-seasoned when it comes to relationships. It's all new to me, and asking someone I really like out is not an easy task."

Jeff gently nudged Kurt's back. "Hey, don't stress yourself out! You two have gone out multiple times, right? Consider this evening as simply an extension of your other friendly get-togethers." He smiled. "And hey, just be grateful that you have someone to ask out…" Jeff rose from the bed and was about to leave the room.

Kurt was shocked as the realization hit him. "Why, Jeff, you aren't jealous, are you?"

Jeff heaved a sigh and gave a resigned smile as he turned away from the door. "In all honesty, I'm a little envious of what you guys have, whatever it may be. I mean, I would kill to have someone feel that way about me. I'm not exactly the first person people think of when talking about love and relationships."

Kurt watched as the boy drifted in his thoughts for a moment. "Jeff?" He had to ask. In all honesty, he wasn't quite sure. "Are you gay?"

Jeff looked directly into Kurt's eyes and smiled. "Do I give the impression of being homosexual, Kurt?"

Kurt was silent and Jeff laughed heartily. "No, I'm not gay. I just am envious of anybody who is either in a relationship or is in love with somebody else. It's been so long since I've felt anything like that. To experience such feelings is something very powerful and intoxicating. I mean, I've been in love before, but I somehow always end up the loser. I'm not very popular among the ladies. I'm just worried I'll never find 'The One' for me."

Kurt sat and listened, amazed, for he had never heard Jeff open up like this before. He walked over to the blonde Warbler and gave him a hug. "Don't worry, Jeff. The right one, she's out there somewhere, and she's probably wondering where the hell you are too."

Kurt disengaged from the embrace and looked Jeff in the eye. "You're an amazing guy," he continued. "I can honestly say that I've never met anyone quite as eclectic and well-versed as you. You're a Renaissance man, Jeff. The world needs more guys like you."

Jeff grinned sheepishly. "Thanks, Kurt. I'm truly touched that you feel that way."

"I'm merely speaking the truth," Kurt replied with a smile. "That's what friends do."

The boys hugged once more. "So," Jeff said, checking his pocket watch. "What time are you supposed to meet up with him?"

Kurt looked at the clock on his nightstand, which now read 8:30. His eyes widened. "Oh, no! I'm going to be late! Help me find something to wear, will you?" Jeff nodded as the two hurriedly started to paw through the closet.

* * *

><p>Jeremiah sat opposite Blaine. Blaine did everything he could to avoid his green-eyed gaze. He hoped that his inner feelings weren't revealed on his face. Then again, perhaps it'd be too hard to see them. He was grateful for the dim lighting in the French restaurant. He checked his cell phone for the time. 8:30 pm. His heart started racing nervously. He had promised to meet Kurt at Robard's at 9:00, and there he was, on the opposite side of town, at a French restaurant with his boyfriend.<p>

"Is everything alright?" Jeremiah was staring intently at his boyfriend across the table. "You seem a little on-edge."

Jeremiah jumped, startled as Blaine's head snapped up, offering his full attention. "Oh yeah, everything's fine! I just wanted to check the time!" Blaine forced a smile that Jeremiah returned.

"Look Blaine, I know you're probably a little preoccupied with this business regarding your headmaster, but don't let him bother you, okay? It's your birthday! You shouldn't let him ruin it for you."

Blaine knew, of course, that his being preoccupied had absolutely nothing to do with that horrible man, even though he was still royally pissed off about that entire situation. "I'll try," he replied softly. An awkward silence created an impenetrable wall between the two. _Go ahead, tell him!_ Blaine's conscience was speaking loudly and clearly in his head. _It's now or never! Tell him now!_

"Hey, Blaine…"

"Jeremiah, I…"

They both stopped, realizing that they had started to speak at the same time. "Go ahead," Blaine said respectably, seeing the floor to Jeremiah. He decided to hold off for a moment. He just needed a little more time to compose his thoughts.

Jeremiah smiled wickedly. "Perhaps I can offer you something that'll take your mind off of all your stress…?"

Blaine watched as the boy raised his eyebrows to heights unmatched by most people. "What do you mean?" He had a horrible hunch as to what was going through his boyfriend's mind, but didn't dare allow those thoughts to seep into his consciousness.

Jeremiah took Blaine by the hand and led him to the exit. "What say you and I head on over to my place?"

If Blaine's heart had been thumping before, it was racing like a horse in the Kentucky Derby at that moment. Sweat formed on his brow and trickled down his face. _What am I going to do?_

* * *

><p>Kurt followed the red-haired host to the reserved table at Robard's Steakhouse. The place was enormous and actually served as a mini concert venue as well. A small wooden stage could be found smack-dab in the middle of the restaurant, and a young woman with jet-black hair that was fashioned into a 1920s-style bob was setting up her equipment and instruments with the help of her band mates.<p>

The host indicated a table in the corner of the main room. The stage was perfectly visible. "Here's your table, sir! When do you anticipate your guest to arrive?"

Kurt took a seat in the soft, comfortable chair. He consulted his wristwatch. "He'll probably be along within the next ten or fifteen minutes."

"Alright then, a server will be with you shortly!" The red-haired host handed Kurt two menus. Kurt nodded his thanks and began to peruse.

His attention was drawn to the stage as the same dark-haired young woman and her band stood poised to play. "Good evening, everyone," she began. "How're you all doing tonight?" The restaurant patrons, including Kurt, responded with a smattering of cheers and applause. She turned to her fellow band mates and counted them off. "One, two, three, four…"

A soft drum started the tempo. Kurt recognized a kind of tango beat, insistent, passionate, and full of sorrow as the bass and a violin joined to create the melody.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Jeremiah opened the door to his flat with Blaine in tow. He switched on the lights, revealing an open but homey living space.

"Make yourself comfortable," Jeremiah said, indicating a futon on the opposite side of the living room. "I'll grab us a couple glasses of wine."

"_Remove me like the ring you're wearing, forget that far away I sleep among the hordes of the memories, merlot, women's magazines…_"

Kurt checked his watch. A good fifteen minutes had passed since he had been seated. It was 9:05. He simply assumed that Blaine must have hit some light traffic. He continued to watch the young woman sing on the stage. She was an excellent singer, and Kurt found himself wondering if she was selling any CDs.

"…_And when the sun comes up tomorrow, another shady late entry, another lie among the never-saids buried in between._"

Jeremiah plopped down on the futon next to Blaine. He was carrying two glasses of red wine and handed one to the handsome Warbler. He raised his in a toast. "To you, Blaine, for being the sweetest, most wonderful boy I know."

"_In sorrow, spirits lure you where they want, while an empty bed hands you forget-me-nots…_"

Blaine smiled sheepishly and uncomfortably as he guzzled his wine. The familiar warmth burned his throat, sickening him. He placed the empty glass down on the floor. He was about to confront Jeremiah when the curly-haired boy suddenly locked lips with him. Blaine could taste the wine on his lips and tongue, and he was suddenly rendered senseless. He allowed himself to be pushed back onto the futon as Jeremiah clambered over him.

"_But come this time tomorrow, I'll be out by water, air, or land,_

_No more love for nothing, no more hesitating at your hand._"

The server appeared once more at Kurt's side. "Are you ready to order yet, sir?"

Kurt once again checked his watch. It was 9:20. He looked up apologetically at the server. "I'm really very sorry, but something seems to be detaining my guest. Please allow me to make a phone call real quick."

The server smiled. "No problem, take your time." Kurt watched him walk away.

He produced his cell phone and punched in Blaine's number, which was on speed dial. It rang four times before the familiar answering message came on: "_Oh, oh what? Is it on? It's on? Hi, you've reached Blaine Anderson. I'm either away from my desk or with a client, but if you leave your name, number, and a brief message, I'll be glad to make you a personal appointment. Have a nice day!_"

Kurt started to speak immediately following the beep. "Hey, Blaine. It's Kurt. I'm at Robard's and I'm just getting a little worried about you. Please call me back to let me know that you're indeed alright and on your way. I'll talk to you soon." He hung up, heart pounding and sweat forming on his brow. _Where the hell is he?_

"_Oh, soon I'll better fill these empty arms, and you'll melt away like smoke into the dark,_

_Through the dark…_"

Blaine tried to resist Jeremiah. He gently nudged him back. He couldn't stand it anymore. "Jeremiah, I have something to tell you."

The green-eyed boy looked up at him pleadingly. Blaine could see the pure need in his eyes. He wondered how he could be so sure if he was indeed not interested in Jeremiah anymore. He had to find out if his revelation about Kurt was just a hunch or a strange turn of events…

…Which is exactly why Blaine pulled him back in for the kiss. Jeremiah grinned and chuckled evilly. "Tonight, you're mine," he said, loosening his tie. He gently pushed Blaine back on the futon and started to kiss his neck furiously. Blaine stared blankly at the ceiling. _What the hell am I doing here? _He was even more startled when Jeremiah began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

"_He smelled of fine magnolia wine and Dior Allure, she'd long been up when he crept inside, and then the smash of the china plates, the zing of the cutlery…_"

Kurt trudged up the stairs in his dormitory. It was 9:50. He stared blankly at his feet as he ascended the staircase. He didn't even realize that Jeff was standing just outside his door.

"Hey, Kurt! I didn't expect you back so soon. How did your dinner date go?"

Kurt didn't respond, nor did he even acknowledge Jeff's presence. He was miserable and depressed. He had been stood-up by Blaine. The boy had never even called back. He just simply hadn't shown. Kurt didn't know the explanation, and he didn't care to. He opened his door and slammed it shut, leaving Jeff to ponder what had gone wrong.

"…_Says, when we took our vows in silence, I thought your hands would stay in place, thinking lines would be drawn for love, but some just never change._"

Blaine felt surprisingly naked now that his shirt was off. Jeremiah's was still on, but he was fumbling to remove it. When he did, he threw it aside as he and Blaine continued to kiss passionately. Blaine certainly felt something, but he was certain it was probably more lust than love. Either way, it did feel good from a physical standpoint. However, he couldn't help but feel that things were quickly growing out of hand. _Kurt, I'm sorry_, he thought to himself. _Just hang on_. _I have to get myself out of this!_

"_Must you make me look down at my shoes when my mother asks benignly about you?_"

Kurt held up a framed picture he had of Blaine. The boy with the golden eyes smiled back at him. Kurt gingerly touched the glass that separated the photo from the outside elements. A single tear streamed down his face as he choked back tears. _I'm such an idiot_, he thought. _Why did I even think he was going to show? He's probably out snogging with his boyfriend!_

Jeremiah Evans. Kurt cursed the name. He was suddenly furious. He rose from his bed and hurled the framed photo at the wall and watched it shatter into a million pieces. Kurt was startled only momentarily before the fury gripped him again. He grabbed his wastebasket and pulled all photos of him and Blaine from out of his desk drawer. He also took in his hand a pair of scissors, determined to erase all memories of the boy from his mind.

"_But come this time tomorrow, I'll be out by water, air, or land, no more love for nothing, no more hesitating, no regrets…_"

Blaine formed the word "stop" in the back of his throat, but it couldn't escape as Jeremiah's lips smothered his own. The green-eyed boy was now struggling to undo Blaine's belt, sending him into a panic. "Wait, stop! I don't think we should…"

Jeremiah pulled back for a moment and smiled a comforting grin. "Relax, will you? It's just me." He gently kissed Blaine's breastbone, as if that proved his point. "It's just me…"

"_Oh, soon I'll better fill these empty arms, and you'll melt away like smoke into the dark, through the dark…_"

Kurt stared down into the now-full wastebasket. It was almost completely filled with shred, torn, and cut up photos. He was panting angrily from the storm of rage he was just coming out of. For a second, he almost seemed to have second thoughts about what he was going to do. He simply laughed sarcastically and took a lit match and dropped it into the waste bin.

Instantly, the pile of photographs began to ignite, bathing the room in a flickering orange glow. Kurt remained stoic, watching with a wicked smile on his face.

Kurt looked up as the door opened. It was Jeff. The blonde Warbler stared wide-eyed as he saw the flames start to escalate! "Kurt! What the hell are you doing?"

Immediately, he snapped out of his rage, and ran with Jeff to the hall to catch the fire extinguisher. The boys stormed back into the room and blasted the flames, leaving the room smoky and filled the floor around the wastebasket with foam.

The two just stood there for a moment, watching the last of the smoke disappear. Jeff dropped the extinguisher with a thud as he turned to face Kurt. "What the hell's going on, Kurt?"

Kurt looked up at him with red, tear-filled eyes. He couldn't even speak. His hair was all messed up and his skin was pallid and sallow. Jeff had never seen him look that way before. Kurt simply walked over to Jeff and started to violently sob into his shoulder. Jeff embraced the boy tightly and whispered. "It's okay, everything's going to be okay," he cooed. It was then that he noticed a broken frame on the floor, and a photograph of Blaine that was covered in broken glass.

"_From flesh to blood to heart to bone…"_

Blaine pushed Jeremiah off with a furious intensity. "Would you stop, please?" He quickly rose from the futon. "I can't do this anymore."

Jeremiah seemed puzzled. "Do what anymore? If I was going too fast, you could have just said so!"

"I tried, but you kept forcing yourself on me!" Blaine squeezed the bridge of his nose in frustration. He had to tell him. He could not and would not put it off anymore. "Look, Jeremiah, the reason why I agreed to go to dinner with you tonight is because I have something very important to discuss with you…"

Jeremiah's face sank. "You're breaking up with me, aren't you?"

Blaine didn't say anything for quite some time. "Look, Jeremiah, it's not because of you. It's me. It's all me. I take full responsibility."

Jeremiah looked up at him with saddened and angered eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

Blaine sighed heavily as he put his shirt back and headed towards the door. "It's because I realized something a couple weeks ago, Jeremiah." He paused, feeling so liberated to finally say the words aloud. "I'm in love with Kurt Hummel…"

Jeremiah stared blankly at Blaine's retreating back as he exited the loft.

**To be continued…**


	17. Cutting the Ivy

**Hello everybody! Have any of you ever gotten really bad writer's block? I confess, I had a major case of it at the beginning of this chapter. Still, I do hope it turned out alright, as the idea just sort of came to me earlier today! This chapter is a little bittersweet, but nothing that's too depressing. Please enjoy, and once again, all feedback is appreciated! Thank you! **

_Kurt and the ghost of Ignatius Dalton were alone in the clearing in the woods just north of campus. The woods seemed to come alive, as they were ticking loudly. Clocks were hanging from every tree, draped over the branches like something out of a surrealist painting._

_The old headmaster stood beside the boy, indicating a tall, thin mirror that suddenly materialized before them. Kurt apprehensively took a step forward and saw, as clear as day, the image of Blaine standing completely naked in the reflection. _

_Kurt did his best to keep his gaze on the amber-gold eyes. He could hear the headmaster chuckle behind him. Kurt stood directly in front of the glass, gently caressing the barrier that kept him from the gorgeous Adonis on the other side. Blaine seemed to respond, and their fingers touched through the glass._

_But when Kurt turned to face Dalton, the old headmaster was frantically shaking his head. When Kurt's gaze returned to the mirror, the nude image of Blaine had been replaced by that of (a fully-clothed) Jeremiah._

_"Blaine is mine! You will never, ever have him, you pathetic excuse of a human being!" The green-eyed boy began to laugh maniacally, the laugh eventually turning into a deafening high-decibel screech that caused the atmosphere around Kurt to shatter as if it too were made of glass. Not knowing what to do, Kurt charged head-first into the mirror, and was met with a loud, resounding crash…_

The knock on the door startled Kurt as he sat up in bed, panting and with heart racing after the peculiar nightmare he'd had. It was bizarre, but he didn't remember ever falling asleep. The last thing he recalled was crying softly into his pillow after the wildly emotional night he'd had. He was even startled to find himself still fully dressed.

In all honesty, Kurt had no idea why he had simply flown off the handle in such a way. Perhaps it was because he couldn't bear the very real possibility that the reason why Blaine hadn't shown up to his own birthday dinner date was because he was out spending the evening with Jeremiah. Either way, Kurt didn't have an explanation. All he knew was that he wasn't too happy with Blaine.

Kurt groggily answered the door and was startled to see Blaine standing in the doorframe looking frazzled and exhausted. "Kurt," he breathed heavily, as if he had been running for quite some time and distance. "Did I wake you?"

Kurt gestured to the clock on his nightstand. It read 2:00 am. He was in the process of shutting the door in the boy's face, but Blaine quickly placed his hand between the door and entryway to stop it. He winced as the door hit him hard on the arm. "Kurt, I'm so sorry about dinner, but please, just hear me out."

The door opened and Kurt admitted him in with a heated glare. Kurt crossed his arms and stood there, as if waiting for an explanation. "Where were you tonight?"

Blaine ran his hand through his now messy hair and started rambling. "I'm so sorry, Kurt! I meant to come over right after what I had to do, but it took a lot longer than I thought! By the time I was done, it was pretty late, and I thought maybe I should just forget about it, but my conscience just wouldn't have it, and I…"

Kurt held his hand up and the boy immediately stopped. "It's a simple question, Blaine. Where were you tonight?"

Blaine sighed heavily. "Kurt, if you must know," he started, flustered. "I was out with Jeremiah tonight, but it's not what you think, I swear!"

Kurt felt as if he were about to keel over. His worst fears had been justified. Nonetheless, he managed to find his voice and spoke. "If you knew you were going out with your boyfriend, why didn't you tell me? We could have rescheduled, Blaine! I wouldn't have minded if you just came out and told me! Why'd you have to hide it from me?"

Blaine shook his head with a pleading look in his suddenly sad eyes. "No, it's not like that! He insisted on taking me out for my birthday, despite my wishes. The only reason I agreed was because I had something very important to discuss with him!"

"Yeah? What was it, Blaine? What was this topic that you were so desperate to talk to him about that it couldn't wait any longer?" Kurt folded his arms once more, eyes blazing into the side of Blaine's face.

Blaine hung his head low. Kurt could see the flicker of something cross the boy's face. He could also see that he was struggling to tell him whatever was on his mind. Blaine shrugged the thought off in defeat. "I can't tell you, Kurt. Just, I can't tell you yet."

Kurt threw his arms up to the skies. "Well, isn't that just great! And you expect me to believe you?"

Blaine stepped forward and grabbed Kurt by the arm, forcing the boy to turn toward him. "Look, I can't tell you just now! You have to understand. You'll know soon enough, I promise. I just…" He paused, staring intently into Kurt's sea-blue eyes. "…I just can't right now."

Kurt saw that flicker again across Blaine's face. He couldn't place what it was, but he was dying to know.

Blaine let go of Kurt's arm. "You're going to have to trust me, Kurt." That pleading look appeared once more in his eyes.

Despite all the anger and frustration he was feeling toward Blaine, Kurt trusted him. There was an absolute sincerity in his tone that no one could ignore, and he knew that Blaine truly wasn't the lying type.

Kurt nodded. "Alright," he began softly. "I'll trust you. But…" He held his hand up when he saw that Blaine was about to protest. Kurt knew just how much his following words would pain him. "…I don't think we should see each other for a little while."

Blaine looked as if he had been stabbed in the chest. "What do you mean, Kurt?"

Kurt shook his head solemnly. On the outside, his expression remained stoic, but on the inside, he was dying. "It's not you. I just need to wrap my head around all of this. I'm sure your apology is sincere, but I think if we spent a little time away from each other, it'd do us both some good. Let's call it a renewal of friendship."

"But…," Blaine stuttered. Kurt gently nudged the boy toward the door. Once Blaine was in the doorway, he snapped around and stared Kurt down. The two of them were mere millimeters apart. Kurt could almost feel his heart do backflips. He wanted so desperately to run his finger along the chiseled jaw line, gently rub his neck, and kiss the boy's sensuous lips.

Blaine gently nodded, devastated. "Alright, I'll stay out of your hair. But let's be clear about something, Kurt. Don't ever forget that I really care about you. As long as you know that, then we're golden." Kurt stared, trying so hard not to let too much emotion show. "But I will you give you your space. Whenever you want to talk, you know you can come to me." Blaine grabbed the doorknob and walked out. Kurt stood there for a moment, knowing that the boy had wanted to say something more. He gathered his thoughts as he watched Blaine's retreating figure, fresh tears streaming down his face.

_Damn it_, he thought. _Damn it all!_

* * *

><p>"Wait, so what happened?"<p>

"I don't know, but Kurt and Blaine haven't been talking since Blaine skipped out on his own birthday dinner date!"

"Whoa, it was a date? Who told you that?"

David Johnson, Thad Martinez, and Trent Nixon were gossiping as they lingered over their breakfast. This sudden interest with Kurt and Blaine had been the topic of much scrutiny and debate among the glee clubbers over the course of the week following the star Warbler's birthday. Despite the fact that their annual Valentine's Day performance at Breadstix was a mere two days away, the two Warblers monopolized any and all conversation between the glee clubbers.

Thad answered Trent's question as he took a bite of his Canadian bacon. "Wes told me that he thought it had been a date. He heard from Joe, who overheard a group of the speech-and-debate students saying that Kurt had publicly asked Blaine out to dinner!"

David and Trent pounded the tabletop with their fists in excitement. "That is something else," David replied, speechless. "I never thought Kurt would fall for our boy!"

Trent rolled his eyes. "Oh, please!" The portly Warbler shook his head. "Where have you been, David? It's totally obvious that Kurt likes him! I've been seeing it since he transferred here!" He shook his head. "I just can't believe Blaine skipped out on Kurt. It just doesn't seem right. I mean, it doesn't sound like something he'd do. It was his birthday dinner, for God's sake! All I'm saying is those two better hook up in time for Valentine's Day in two days…"

"Come on, guys, enough with the gossip!"

The trio looked up as Jeff Honeycutt and Nick Corwin took a seat at their table.

Thad shook his head. "We're not gossiping! We're merely exchanging vital information." David and Trent nodded in agreement.

"Yeah right," Nick smirked, shaking his head in disapproval.

Jeff ate a forkful of pancake before speaking. "How did you guys find out about all this anyway?"

"Wes," Thad replied simply.

Jeff chuckled darkly. "That Wes is such a gossip whore!"

"Well, considering you were the one who comforted Kurt when Blaine didn't show…," David retorted. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Hey, it was none of your business!" Jeff was defensive. "He's my close friend, and I was sworn to secrecy! It's not my fault the dormitory has thin walls and that those stupid other guys were spying!"

"Tell us this much," Trent said, leaning in closer. "Did Blaine ever apologize?"

All the boys leaned in to listen to Jeff's reply, as if they were a pack of hungry seals waiting for a tantalizing fish.

Jeff heaved a heavy sigh. "Kurt told me Blaine came over to apologize last Sunday, but he was furious when he found out he had gone out with Jeremiah."

There was a collected "Yuck" from the gathered Warblers. They all had known about Blaine's "mystery man" since the after-Christmas party. No one in the glee club particularly cared for "the green-eyed monster," as Thad referred to him.

Trent suddenly whispered, "Heads up! Kurt and Blaine at twelve o'clock!"

A collected silence came over the table of Warblers as they watched Kurt return from the buffet lines and Blaine enter through the oak doors. The boys at the table looked on with bated breath, waiting for the two to cross paths.

Kurt and Blaine stopped inches apart and awkwardly stared into each other's eyes. Neither of them spoke. Their expressions remained stoic as the two simply and uncomfortably walked around each other and continued going their separate ways. Half of the Warblers watched Blaine shoot worried glances at Kurt over his shoulder while the other half watched Kurt close his eyes and fight back tears all the way to the oak doors.

The boys all turned back to the table and shook their head solemnly. "What the hell are we going to do?" David was blown away by all he'd just seen. "Those two not speaking to each other just doesn't feel right!" The table nodded in agreement before sorrowfully resuming their breakfast.

* * *

><p>Allan Kane returned from lunch satisfied and stuffed. Adjusting his belt, he took a seat behind his desk to check his e-mail. There was only one message in his inbox and, from the looks of it, appeared to be spam as there was no return address. The headmaster rolled his eyes and was about to send the lone message to the trash bin when he noticed the caption in the subject line. It read: Ivy Caplesmith.<p>

Allan stared at the closed door as if he could picture his secretary on the other side, working on her computer. Apprehensively, he clicked to open the message, worried that it could possibly contain a virus.

The anonymous message opened in a new window. In it were three brief and concise sentences:

_It has come to my attention that your secretary, Ms. Ivy Caplesmith, assisted the Dalton Academy Warblers by providing them with transportation to and from the Ohio Show Choir Sectionals Competition this year, after you specifically stated that they weren't allowed to go. With all due respect, I am suggesting that you keep your eyes on her and the glee club for it is obvious that they cannot be trusted. In time, I will reveal myself, but for now, please take my advice, for they are up to no good._

Allan could feel his blood boiling in rage. Regardless of who had sent the e-mail, he was furious to know that the damn Warbler boys would dare defy him and his word. He was going to do away with them for good. He was most certainly going to expel them. He reached for the microphone in his office, tempted to make the announcement.

_No_, Allan thought to himself. _Then they'd know that they're in trouble_. He pushed the microphone away. He planned to let them fret for a little while before springing something terrible on them much later on. In the meantime, he was going to hurt them from the inside out. He was going to do away with the one person, his secretary whom he had trusted, who had taken his educational decree and used it against him.

He buzzed the intercom on his desk and forced himself to use the nicest, sweetest, most innocent voice he could conjure from within his dark soul. "Ms. Caplesmith?"

The voice responded almost immediately. "_Yes, headmaster?_"

"Would you mind stepping in here for a moment? I have urgent news for you…" He removed his finger from the switch and a poisonous look appeared on his face as the older woman stepped into his office.

"You wish to see, headmaster?"

"I most certainly do," he said with an evil grin. "Please have a seat, Ivy…"

* * *

><p>Kurt was in history class when an announcement was broadcast over the intercom system. He was so startled by it that a sweat broke out on his forehead and his heart started racing nervously. A dead silence came over the room as the voice of the hated headmaster seemed to speak directly to each and every individual student and faculty member:<p>

"_Good afternoon, Dalton Academy. It is my great displeasure to inform you that, due to unforeseen circumstances, Ms. Ivy Caplesmith will no longer be able to fulfill her duties as my personal secretary. She has worked at this beloved school for over twenty years, and will miss all of you dearly. Thank you, Ms. Caplesmith, for your years of good, loyal service._"

The blood froze in Kurt's veins as the message ended. The classroom was filled with a respectful silence, as if they had just been informed of the death of a beloved instructor. Kurt knew that the wretched headmaster must have found out about her helping the Warblers get to Sectionals. He had a terrible feeling about the entire situation.

His phone vibrated, and despite the fact that he was in class, he checked the text from Jeff: _He knows about Sectionals! He must! That's probably why he made the announcement! He fired her! Now my question is who the hell ratted her out?_

Kurt frantically started texting back only to receive a message from Trent: _We're doomed! The poor woman, she's such a nice person!_

His phone vibrated once more, this time with a mass text from Thad: _Wes already texted me. We have an emergency Sons meeting tonight at midnight in the old church. It is absolutely vital that we're all there!_

Kurt put his phone back in his pocket, still shaken by all that had happened. Someone, probably within the school, had caught Ms. Caplesmith helping the Warblers and had sold her up the river. He was already concerned for her, but his worst fears were reserved for the glee clubbers themselves. _What if we're next?_

* * *

><p>"Brothers," Wes' voice boomed and reverberated off the walls. "We are faced with a very serious situation right now. As we all heard this afternoon, honorary Warbler, Ms. Ivy Caplesmith, was let go from her long-standing position as secretary to the headmaster."<p>

The cloaked boys hung their heads low in sorrow. They all felt guilty to a degree, allowing this selfless, lovely woman to sacrifice herself and her job just to help the resident glee club she'd come to love.

"Before I go on," Wes continued, brandishing his cell phone, "I have a voicemail here from Ms. Caplesmith which I received shortly after Headmaster Kane's announcement." He fumbled with some buttons and the boys gathered around the podium to hear what the older woman had to say:

"_Hello, Wes. It's Ivy Caplesmith. As I'm sure you've heard by now, I've been let go by Headmaster Kane. Regardless, I told him that I offered to provide transportation for you, but that you politely declined. I know that's obviously not what really happened, but I had to protect you. Please do not feel guilty or saddened by my being let go. I simply did what I felt was right. I'm very sorry that I cannot be there for you for Regionals, but just know that my thoughts and prayers go out to you. You're all wonderful people, and I know that you'll go far in life. Take care and I do hope that we meet again someday. Goodbye._"

The phone clicked and Wes put the cell back in his pocket. Kurt was shocked and moved that the secretary had lied just to protect them. _She's like Eponine from_ Les Misérables, he thought to himself.

Kurt heard Trent silently sob somewhere behind him. David shook his head and bit his lip in deep thought. Blaine was misty-eyed, and he turned in Kurt's direction. The two boys caught each other's gaze for a split second before they snapped their attention back to Wes at the podium.

Wes wiped his eyes, which were red as if he had been crying. "Let us not ever forget the kindness and joy that Ms. Caplesmith brought to the lives of the Warblers. Now, when we go to Regionals…"

Everyone's head in the room darted up to the podium where Wes was standing. Had they heard him correctly? Was he crazy?

Wes smiled softly. "…And I don't mean 'if," I mean 'when' we go to Regionals, let us be sure to dedicate our performance to Ivy Caplesmith!"

A smattering of applause began in the center of the old church. Others began joining in and within minutes the entire room was filled with the white noise of clapping and cheers.

Wes threw a defiant fist in the air, eyes welling up with tears. "FOR IVY!"

The cloaked boys all held their fists up. "FOR IVY!"

Kurt smiled up to the heavens as tears of unadulterated joy and excitement trickled down his face. It felt so good to defy unjust authority. He smirked. _Let the revolution begin…_

* * *

><p>The following morning, Allan Kane was reading the newspaper with his feet up on his desk. He was enjoying the sports section, and was eagerly awaiting the new candidate to fill Ivy Caplesmith's secretary post.<p>

Sure enough, there was a knock on the door. Allan folded the paper up and placed it in a drawer. "Come in," he called.

The door opened and in walked a curly blonde-haired young man. The headmaster noticed his startling green eyes. They were definitely the most prominent feature on the young man's face.

With respect, Allan rose from his seat. "Good morning!" He extended his hand, which the young man took in a firm grip. "Are you here for the secretary interview?"

The blonde smiled. "Yes, sir. My regrets regarding your previous secretary. However, I believe I've got what it takes to get the job done!"

The headmaster rubbed his hands together. "Excellent! Let's begin, shall we?" He produced a note pad from one of his desk drawers. He snapped as he remembered something. "I apologize. I'm great with faces but not with names. May I have your name again?"

"It's Jeremiah Evans, sir," the young man answered with a smile.

**To be continued…**


	18. Reunited

**Hey everyone! What with early Pottermore registration, "Glee Project" drama, and a busy week, I have been procrastinating a bit. My humblest apologies. Anyway, here is the Valentine's episode of my story! Some things to look forward to in this chapter include new educational decrees from the wretched headmaster himself, a jilted ex who takes over as secretary to the headmaster, a ghostly visitation, and, of course, "Silly Love Songs." Please enjoy! Once again, any and all feedback is welcome! **

In the days following Ivy Caplesmith's dismissal, a whole onslaught of new rules and regulations were enacted by Headmaster Kane. Every other day, it seemed, new so-called "educational decrees" were being posted in large bold print all over the campus grounds. Some were unreasonable:

**The curfew for all Dalton Academy students has been pushed back from 11:00 pm to 9:00 pm. Anybody seen outside of their dormitories or on the school grounds will be dealt with accordingly be it detention or harsher punishment.**

Some of them were unjustified:

**Random classroom, dormitory, and office inspections will take place whenever the headmaster or his staff sees fit. These inspections will be completely random, and should anything peculiar be found or something inappropriate be overheard, said individual will face dire consequences. **

And some were just plain ridiculous:

**There are to be no signs of public affection before, during, and after school hours. However, seeing as this is an all-boys school, surely this will not be too problematic. Still, any kissing, hand-holding, or other questionable behavior will be reported and grounds for detention or suspension.**

Every morning, the Warbler boys would waken to find these new outrageous announcements posted all over the walls of their respective dormitories. They knew that the situation was rapidly growing out of hand. As they stood gathered around the bulletins, reading them with scorn and bitterness, they slowly and surely began to draw their plans against the vile man whom they were forced to call "headmaster." They knew the Sons of Ignatius Dalton was no longer strictly a secret society, but a rising resistance, a force to challenge the unjust authority that now cast its ugly, dark shadow over their beloved school.

* * *

><p>Blaine was miserable. Overall, it had been a long, emotionally draining week. Ivy Caplesmith, the beloved secretary, was gone, planning on being replaced by God-knows-who. Blaine marveled at the woman's selflessness. He had never known anybody on the Dalton Academy faculty and staff to be as brave and noble as her.<p>

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Kurt was still giving him the silent treatment. Blaine didn't know how much more lack of communication he could handle. Besides, he still had yet to inform the boy that he and Jeremiah had broken up. Blaine was waiting for the right opportunity to present itself. He was also aching to confess his feelings for Kurt, but didn't know when or how he could do it.

He tried to cheer himself up with a gentle reminder that the Warblers' traditional Valentine's Day performance at Breadstix Restaurant was still officially a go for that evening as per Wes: ("The headmaster? Screw him! This is a tradition!") However, this news made Blaine sulk even more, for he was due to sing Paul McCartney's "Silly Love Songs." He actually loved the song, but didn't feel that it particularly suited him during his time of emotional woes and the social crisis that was overtaking Dalton Academy.

He snapped out of his reverie as the wicked headmaster took the stage during the morning assembly he'd called to order. There was a collective groan from the Warblers as he spoke.

"Good morning, Dalton Academy," Headmaster Kane began. "I'm sure, over the course of the past few days, that you have noticed new rules and regulations being enacted. I guarantee that it is in the students' best interest to follow and respect them. Failure to do so will result in severe and unforgiveable punishment in the form but not limited to detention, suspension, or complete expulsion. I advise you all to be on your best behavior. This applies to the faculty as well."

The man gave a horrid glare that encircled the room. Both teachers and students visibly shuddered at the gesture, feeling as if they were going to be under complete scrutiny from then on.

"Also, it is with great pleasure that I welcome my new secretary to the office. Please give a warm welcome to the newest member of the Dalton faculty and staff, Jeremiah Evans!"

Had anybody been facing the section of the auditorium where the Warbler boys sat, they would have seen all manner of shocked expressions on display. They watched in horror as the green-eyed young man took the stage and gave the students and teachers a fake smile. However, of all of them, Blaine looked the most surprised and concerned. He was so startled that he immediately rose and headed to the bathroom in the lobby to try to compose himself.

Wes watched Blaine run toward the exit. He turned to the row of boys and spoke in a loud whisper. "We're meeting at Dalton's grave during lunch hour to discuss this!" The boys nodded vigorously in response.

Kurt, for the first time in a week, was truly worried about Blaine and his sudden storming out of the auditorium. Still, he felt it better to leave the handsome boy alone. Whatever had been running through his mind, Kurt was desperate to know about it.

* * *

><p>Thad stood in the clearing in the woods on the northeast corner of campus doing a head count to be sure that the Sons had all assembled. About half were standing around while the other half had taken seats on the logs that encircled the final resting place of Dalton Academy's first headmaster.<p>

Wes received an affirmative nod from the tall, slender boy before he spoke. "Brothers, I will have order please!" The boys fell silent.

He turned to face Blaine, who had his head in his hands. "Blaine Anderson, I know that it is safe to assume that you played no part in this, but since he is your boyfriend, do you have any idea why Jeremiah Evans is the new secretary to Headmaster Kane?"

"Traitor!" Everyone turned to face Trent, who was being held back by Thad and David. The portly boy pointed an accusatory finger at Blaine, who recoiled slightly. "Ms. Caplesmith's not gone for more than a day, and already he suggests his boyfriend for the job!"

"SHUT UP, TRENT!" Blaine was not going to tolerate the abuse and accusations. He rose, furious, and was now standing a mere foot away from Trent. It was his turn to recoil in fear. Kurt's eyes were huge and his heart pounded so loudly he could hear it in his ears. Not even realizing what he was doing, he ran up to Blaine's side in an attempt to restrain him.

"GET OFF OF ME!"

Blaine's elbow jabbed Kurt in the side as the boy hurtled toward the ground. He turned and was suddenly startled and concerned, his anger dissipating, as he saw the fallen Kurt.

Tears stung Kurt's eyes as he looked up at Blaine with a glare of absolute scorn and poison. Blaine stepped closer to try and help him up. "Oh my god, I didn't know it was you, Kurt! I'm so sorry…"

Kurt shoved his hand out of the way. "Get the hell away from me!"

Blaine tried to communicate his deepest regret. "Kurt…"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" The Warblers visibly jumped. They had never heard Kurt scream in such a way. They all watched, helplessly glued to their spots, as Jeff stepped away from them all and started running after the boy. "Kurt, wait a minute!"

* * *

><p>Kurt ran. He didn't know where he was going and nor did he care. Somewhere along the way, he'd shaken Jeff off his tail. All he knew was that he had to get as far away as he possibly could from Blaine and those woods. Tears continued to stream down his face. He had never seen Blaine fly off the handle. It frightened him greatly. He wondered in that moment why love must be so unbearable sometimes. Kurt shook his head. None of that mattered now.<p>

When Kurt finally stopped running, he realized that he was standing outside a building that he didn't even recognize. He questioned if he was still on campus grounds. Deeply curious, he opened the tinted glass doors and stepped inside.

The lobby was certainly drafty and cool. Kurt walked through another door and found himself standing in the back of an intimate one hundred-seat movie theater. The lights were dim and before him was a giant screen. Kurt looked up at the back wall of the theater and saw the familiar window with the film projector. He turned back to face the screen, still surprised that he had not yet seen this place in the three months he'd been a Dalton Academy student.

Kurt nearly jumped when he heard a clicking sound coming from somewhere behind him. He was startled to find that the film projector had been turned on and was now playing a movie on the big screen. What he saw made his heart stop.

It was himself with Blaine, and they were walking on a beach somewhere, someplace far away. The images flickered like a silent film, for there was no sound or music accompaniment. There was just an old, withered looking image of the two boys, holding hands and prancing around on the sand. Kurt found himself taking a seat in the middle of the auditorium, contemplating if he were merely imagining what he was seeing, or if it indeed was real.

After a few minutes, Kurt was joined by an elderly gentleman that he immediately recognized as the ghost of Ignatius Dalton. Kurt gave him a small smile. "You put this movie on, didn't you?"

The old man smiled warmly, answering Kurt's query, but the boy could only stare in confusion. "What does it all mean?"

Then, from somewhere, he heard a deep, resonating voice. He knew the minute he heard it that it was Dalton's voice, but the ghost's lips weren't moving. "_It is merely a projection of your heart's deepest desire_. _Your heart, right now, is an open book_. _It is so easy to read, especially when it comes to your unrequited love situation with Blaine Anderson_."

Kurt commanded his attention back to the movie screen. He watched as he and Blaine happily frolicked up and down the beach, holding hands. It was clear that the couple in the film were so enamored and in love with each other. A single tear rolled down his cheek. Why couldn't it be that easy? Why couldn't it just happen already?

His thoughts must have been read, because the old man responded, "_Can you honestly say that you wish it were that simple?_"

The boy chuckled dryly. "With all due respect, sir, it'd be a hell of a lot easier than this sordid, miserable chase and me trying to read his signs. I'm not so good at that."

Dalton nodded morosely. "_Ah, I can understand that_. _Nevertheless, the pain you're feeling, though depressing, signifies one thing and one thing only_."

Kurt's eyes continued to remain glued to the screen. "What's that?"

"_It signifies that you're alive_."

The boy was confused, and turned to face Dalton, who simply smiled. "_I can promise you, where I am right now, there is no pain, no suffering, but at the same time there is little emotion at all_. _Oftentimes, I find myself missing the feelings of life_. _I envy you in that respect, and yet I live vicariously through you and your experiences_. _You remind me a lot of myself_."

Kurt grinned, flattered at the comparison. "Sir, it's just that, I don't know how much more of this chase I can take! I'm truly, deeply, madly in love with Blaine. I just don't know how to handle it anymore."

Dalton gave the boy a sympathetic look. "_These things take time. They always do. And I know this is going to sound strange, but do not rush through them. Embrace them. Embrace the fact that you're young and alive and in love with somebody. Being in love, especially being in love for the very first time is an incredibly overwhelming experience. Enjoy it before it's too late. And who knows? Maybe a happy ending is in the works for you._"

The old man smiled once more before he rose and headed for the exit, leaving Kurt staring dumbfounded after him. His eyes had been opened, and he knew that the old headmaster was absolutely right with everything he said.

"Sir?"

The ghost turned to face him.

"Thank you."

Dalton merely bowed in respect. "_I'm glad to know that, even years after my death, my advice is still useful to those who need it._" The two shared a laugh as Kurt watched the ghost vanish into thin air. He returned his attention back to the screen and watched as he and Blaine exchanged a romantic kiss before the film flickered to a stop and ended, leaving the theater in near darkness.

* * *

><p>Breadstix was filled to capacity with hungry, lovesick patrons. Blaine jumped up and down on the balls of his feet to get himself pumped and energized for the Warblers' scheduled performance. Physically and mentally, he was ready for the show. Emotionally, on the other hand, he knew he wasn't. He just hoped and prayed that he would be able to make it through the entire number.<p>

He felt terrible for lashing out at Kurt earlier that day. He hadn't done it intentionally, but he had been so furious by Trent's accusations that he just snapped. He wanted desperately to apologize to Kurt, but the boy was doing everything he could to avoid him and was nowhere to be found. He gave a resigned sigh, deciding it'd be better if he simply focused on the song.

Blaine had no idea that Kurt was watching him warm up from a corner of the room. Kurt stood, taking in the sight of the boy he loved before him and reflected on everything the ghost of Ignatius Dalton had told him. He decided that no matter how painful the yearning and desire could be, he simply had to enjoy the feeling of being in love. He also decided that he was going to break the silence between them. He couldn't bear to avoid Blaine any longer.

"It's definitely a little creepy, the way you're staring at him…"

Kurt jumped nearly a foot off the ground as Jeff appeared beside him. "You'd be quite the stalker, Kurt," he said with a childish grin.

The boy playfully socked Jeff on the arm. "Leave me alone." They shared a small laugh.

"How are you feeling?" Jeff tilted his head like a curious puppy. "I know this afternoon was a little rough for you."

Kurt actually smiled, startling the blonde Warbler a bit. "I'm much better now, actually. I've had plenty of time to think things over, and I think I'm ready to break my silence with Blaine."

Jeff grinned. "That's wonderful!" He rubbed his hands together. "But I'm pretty sure you'll be even more grateful about your decision after the news I have for you."

Kurt wondered what could possibly have had Jeff pacing excitedly. "What is it?"

Jeff leaned in and whispered in Kurt's ear. "Blaine confessed to us that he and Jeremiah are officially broken up!"

Kurt's eyes widened and he hoped that none of the other Warblers saw his obvious reaction. Jeff stood back and grinned wickedly.

Kurt stood rooted to his spot. "…What…?"

Before he could completely absorb the whopper of information that Jeff had just dropped on him, Wes appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "Guys, get ready! The show is about to start!" He pushed the two out onto the makeshift stage.

* * *

><p>Kurt stepped up to the pink microphone. He was told, last minute, by Thad that since he was the newest addition to the glee club, he was required to introduce himself and the Warblers. He was a master at making impromptu speeches and improv theatre, so he wasn't particularly concerned.<p>

He smiled as he spotted his McKinley High friends scattered about the restaurant.

"Happy Valentine's Day, everybody," he began with a flourish. "For those of you Breadstix patrons who don't know who I am, I'm Kurt Hummel, and welcome to my first ever Lonely Hearts Club Dinner with the Dalton Academy Warblers."

He caught Rachel, Puck, Tina, Mercedes, Mike Chang, Artie, and even Lauren Zizes smiling back at him. Taking the mic out of its stand, Kurt began to pace across the stage. "Whether you're single with hope or madly in love and are here because I forced you to come out and support me, sit back and enjoy. And to all the singles out there…" He stopped for a moment picturing Blaine's smiling face in his mind's eye and forcing back tears. "…This is our year."

There was a smattering of applause as he replaced the microphone in its stand and took a place in the second row of Warblers, directly behind Blaine.

The boys began a beautiful vocal backbeat. The harmonies and melodies melded beautifully together. Jeff gave Kurt a sideways smile before Joe Holden's beat-boxing tempo launched them into the song.

Blaine stepped forward and started to sing:

"_You think that people would have had enough of silly love songs_…"

Kurt smiled as the patrons started to smile. Watching Blaine perform was always a cause for people to smile. He exuded such a radiance and high energy that Kurt had seldom seen among high school performers.

"_But I look around me and I see it isn't so…_"

Kurt let the sultry call of Blaine's velvety smooth voice wash over him. Whenever Blaine would sing, he would be transported back to that exact time and place in the senior commons on that fateful afternoon when he'd been sent to spy on the Warblers. It was, by far, his favorite memory.

"_Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs…_"

Kurt couldn't believe that Blaine had neglected to tell him that he and Jeremiah had gone their separate ways. That was certainly big news, and weren't he and Blaine best friends? He wondered why the boy hadn't said anything.

"_And what's wrong with that I'd like to know? 'Cause here I go again…!_"

He suddenly remembered something Blaine had said on the night of his birthday:

"_Kurt, if you must know… I was out with Jeremiah tonight, but it's not what you think, I swear!_"

Kurt almost lost his place in the song. He could have kicked himself for not seeing it before. Blaine _had _tried to tell him about the break-up, but Kurt was so angry at the time that he wouldn't even allow the boy a word in edgewise! It all made perfect sense to him now! He was both ashamed that he'd flown off the handle and overjoyed that he no longer needed to avoid Blaine for a stupid misunderstanding that he'd brought on himself.

"_I love you… I love you…_"

Blaine was working all the tables, making sure he reached everyone in the audience. He smiled up at the Warblers as he ran back to the front of the stage. Kurt looked up at Blaine and the two locked eyes. The boy crooned the flirtatiously crooned the following lyrics his way:

"_Love doesn't come in a minute! Sometimes, it doesn't come at all. I only know that when I'm in it, it isn't silly. No, it isn't silly, love isn't silly at all, not at all!_"

Kurt was shocked when Blaine broke through the solid wall of blazers and ties and took his hand out onto the floor. The boy with the golden eyes held him close and danced with him all around the restaurant. Everybody cheered and applauded the romantic gesture. Kurt was stunned, his heart racing fast. He flashed a confused grin in Rachel's general direction, who winked in approval.

Blaine twirled and dipped the boy a number of times before he replaced him in the front row. Kurt's head was spinning and he grinned brightly. Everything else seemed to disappear as Blaine seemed to sing the words solely to him:

"_I love you… I love you…_"

He turned back to face the restaurant patrons, but not before giving Kurt a wink and a flash of his sexy grin. Kurt's heart melted, and for a brief second he looked up to the heavens. _Thank you_, he said, hoping Dalton could hear his gratitude.

"_I can't explain, the feeling's plain to me, say can't you see? How she gave me more, she gave it all to me, say can't you see?_"

The number came to a close and the audience went wild. The Warblers turned and hugged one another, wishing each other a happy Valentine's Day.

Blaine found Kurt in the melee. They stood, awkwardly staring at one another for a moment before Blaine opened his arms and the two embraced.

"I'm so sorry for avoiding you, Blaine," Kurt said, speech muffled as he spoke into his shoulder.

"No, Kurt. I'm sorry about this afternoon," the handsome boy responded. "I didn't mean to lash out at you like that."

The two disengaged from the hug and Kurt gently rubbed Blaine's arm. "It's okay. You were upset after all."

He nodded, thankful that Kurt was being so understanding. "So, this means we're talking again, right?"

Kurt grinned. "Absolutely." The two hugged again before Blaine spoke.

Blaine was now facing a moral dilemma. Now that he and Kurt had made up, he decided not to hold off any longer. He was finally going to tell him about Jeremiah. "Look Kurt, before anything else happens, there's something I have to tell you."

Kurt shrugged it off, thinking he knew what the boy wanted to say. "You and Jeremiah broke up, right? Jeff told me."

Blaine's face fell only slightly. He had wanted to mention that, but he also had planned to confess his feelings for Kurt. "Oh, Jeff told you, did he?"

"Yeah, he told me just before we went on for the song." Kurt smiled sheepishly. "I guess I owe you another apology. I realized tonight that the reason you stood me up on your birthday was because you wanted to break the news to Jeremiah." He gave Blaine's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "I understand completely. I just hope that he won't try to pull any funny business now that he's Headmaster Kane's secretary."

Kurt could see a slight trace of disappointment on Blaine's face. "Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's nothing," Blaine said with a small smile. He put his arm around Kurt and the two headed towards the exit. Kurt could tell that he was hiding something. Nevertheless, he was overjoyed that they were speaking again and thankful as the familiar pangs of love tugged at his heartstrings. He could almost swear he heard Dalton's warm laughter.

**To be continued…**


	19. Igniting the Spark

**Hello everyone! Well, the plot thickens! I apologize for taking longer with these later chapters, but it's absolutely crucial that I not overlook anything. Also, I admit, I have been taking some time reading CP Coulter's latest installments in "Dalton." I'm so glad that she's back! Anyway, here is the next chapter of my Dalton Academy tale. Please enjoy, and once again, all feedback and commentary is welcome and appreciated! **

Jeremiah Evans wandered the darkened halls of Dormitory One armed with only a clipboard. He was most displeased with this latest assignment from Headmaster Kane. The man had appointed him the official night watchman in addition to his secretarial position. His job was to see to it that no students were out and about after curfew or were acting out of line. The task would not have been such a bother if he wasn't so afraid of being alone in the dark. Of course, technically being an adult, he had never shared that fear with anybody…

…Except Blaine Anderson…

He shook his head, as if his curly golden locks would loosen any grip they had on the memories he'd made with "24K." That had been his pet name for Blaine, because of his "pure gold" eyes. Even now, they flashed brilliantly in his mind's eye and the memory practically drove him wild with desire and lust.

He dropped to the floor, biting down on his fist in an attempt to fight back the tears he knew were coming. Before he realized what he was doing, he withdrew his knuckles from his mouth. Tiny bubbles of blood appeared on the reddened skin where teeth marks had surfaced. Surprisingly enough, it didn't pain him in the least.

He wondered in that moment what he had done that would cause Blaine to break up with him. It was seemingly hard to imagine that the boy simply had a sudden change of heart. Jeremiah assumed that it must have been the handiwork of that Kurt or whatever his name was. All he knew was that he desperately wanted the boy back. He was unsure as to how he was going to go about doing it, but he swore to himself that by the end of the school year, he would have Blaine back in his arms. The very thought of going on without him was unbearable.

Jeremiah pressed on through the shadowy corridors, taking notes on his clipboard. He was happy (and thankful) to report that there was absolutely nothing to report. He breathed a sigh of relief as he exited the building. His job that evening was complete.

The moment he stepped outside into the cool night air, he saw smoke rising from somewhere deep within the woods on the Northeast side of campus. "F—fire!" He could hardly believe the words were flying out of his mouth as he ran around on the grounds screaming, "FIRE! Everybody up! There's a fire in the woods!"

* * *

><p>Unbeknownst to the newly-appointed night watchman, the Sons of Ignatius Dalton were gathered around a roaring fire in the clearing deep in the woods on the Northeast side of campus. The boys were gathered around Dalton's grave, where a roaring fire had been built to honor the deceased headmaster's birthday.<p>

About four or five boys were gathered around the bright flames. They were chanting and dancing and their silhouettes cast eerie, haunting shadows on the soft earth beneath their feet.

Kurt sat on a log, watching Blaine move sensually around the fire. The dancing boy had loosened the top two buttons of his dress shirt because of the intense heat emanating from the blaze. Kurt did his best to avert his gaze away from the open collar. He could only imagine those beads of perspiration as they trickled down the slender neck and wound their way down the boy's chest and stomach to regions unknown.

"Brothers!" Kurt jumped nearly a foot in the air, startled by Wes' sudden outburst. "Feel Ignatius Dalton's presence around you! Tonight, we conjure him from the Great Beyond! We summon him to us in the hopes that he may bless us with good fortune and happiness! Rejoice, for tonight he will be reunited with his sons!"

The chanting escalated into a frenzy. Kurt watched in breathtaking awe as Blaine began to spin and twirl like one of those Turkish whirling dervishes with arms outstretched to the heavens. He couldn't help but notice how Blaine's eyes seemed to glow and glimmer in the firelight like two golden coins. They burned with intensity as they concentrated on the flames.

Kurt was startled again when a hand clasped his shoulder. "My, you're certainly on edge tonight. Relax! We're all here as a community."

He turned and came face-to-face with Jeff. Kurt smiled to see that he had drawn lines of face paint on his cheeks, put a feather behind his right ear, and wore a dog-tag necklace that bore a flag representing a specific Native American nation. The blonde Warbler grinned, pointing to his decorations and responding to Kurt's confused expression. "My grandfather was part Georgia Muskogee Native American. My parents told me it's the reason why I have dark brown eyes instead of blue."

"That's so cool," Kurt said with a grin. "But why are you dressed like that?"

Jeff snorted as if the answer were obvious. "We're conjuring a spirit, Kurt! I had to don the traditional garb so as to attempt to bring Dalton's spirit temporarily back to this realm. My grandfather was an honorary shaman for the Muskogee in Loganville, Georgia." He stood up straight, proudly puffing out his chest. "He taught me all the rituals I know."

He took a seat on the log next to the angel-faced boy. "By the way, if your gaze had more heat, the poor chap would ignite!" He indicated Blaine and jumped out of the way just in time to miss Kurt's whiplash slap.

A strange sound suddenly issued directly from the center of the fire. Total silence overcame the Sons, for they knew what was about to happen. Kurt sat, puzzled and dumbfounded, turning his head every which way to figure out what was going on.

Jeff grabbed his head and turned it back in the direction of the flames. "You're going to want to see this!" Kurt's heart was racing uncontrollably. He didn't know what to expect.

Just then, the fire exploded. The boys all ducked involuntarily and shielded their eyes as a smoldering ball of flame began to circle the clearing.

The cloaked Warblers all began to cheer and applaud as the unmistakable face of an old man appeared in the ball of fire. Kurt, eyes wide, was instantly comforted by the familiar sound of Dalton's warm laughter.

The blazing spirit playfully circled the clearing a few more times before it disappeared with a loud clap and crackle, leaving behind a cloud of thick black smoke. Kurt coughed and sputtered as he swatted away any offending particles that may have lingered.

A loud cheer echoed and reverberated throughout the clearing. The boys rose and were about to return to their dormitories when Thad called for silence. "Listen!" He paused, focusing on whatever sound he claimed to hear. "Do you guys hear that?"

Total silence came over the clearing as the Sons all strained to hear the wail of the Dalton Academy fire alarm. "Damn it! Someone must have seen our fire!" David was in a panic that quickly spread throughout the group. Kurt and Blaine stood frozen, staring at each other in shock and fear. A scene of minor chaos ensued in the clearing.

"Everyone, hold it a second!" Wes held his hands up for order. "Perhaps we're jumping to some quick conclusions. I propose that we simply head back to the dormitories in a calm manner and see what all the fuss is about."

The boys turned their heads toward the shouts they heard not far off. "I know I saw smoke! It was coming from this direction!" The Sons recognized Jeremiah's voice over the din.

Wes scanned the surrounding words before shouting, "RUN!"

The boys bolted in the complete opposite direction of the school. David quickly jumped into action and hosed down the blaze with the fire extinguisher from his dormitory and bailed after the other Warblers.

Blaine turned to face Kurt with a look of panic flashing in his honey-gold eyes. "Hold my hand, Kurt! Do NOT let go, understand?"

Kurt nodded quickly before the boy whisked him off. The two ran through brambles and low-hanging branches, and he felt sharp stabs of pain on his cheeks where a twig would reach out and cut him.

After a short time, Kurt could hear hurried footfalls not far behind him. He turned and his eyes widened when he found Jeremiah and two other faculty members in hot pursuit. "Um, Blaine…?"

The handsome Warbler turned and saw what Kurt was pointing to. He immediately picked up his speed.  
>"Stop, you two!" Jeremiah called after them breathlessly. "You're coming with me to the headmaster's office!"<p>

The two boys rounded a darkened corner and found themselves in a dead-end. Blaine glanced nervously at Kurt. "Great! Now what are we going to do?"

Kurt, without thinking, shoved Blaine into a nearby shrub. He followed suit, and watched as the newly appointed night watchman stood alone and searched the dead-end for any sign of the students.

The flashlight beam pierced the darkness of the bush, but the boys knew that they wouldn't be seen. They watched as Jeremiah nervously ran a hand through his hair.

Blaine turned towards Kurt and gestured for him to watch. Blaine picked up a pebble and tossed it at the young man's head. He instantly turned with a frightened look on his face. The boys giggled silently.

It was then that Kurt cupped his hands to his mouth and began a ghostly wail. Blaine stifled a laugh as he fell over, holding on to his stomach. They watched as Jeremiah looked around absolutely freaked out.

When one of the faculty members found him, the young man screamed and ran off into the night. "Hey, what happened?" The faculty member followed him, baffled.

Kurt and Blaine emerged from the shrub laughing loudly. "That ghost moan was brilliant, Kurt!"

The angel-faced boy grinned. "I feel kind of bad for scaring him like that, but I just couldn't resist!"

The two continued to laugh for a moment. "God, I love you," Blaine said softly, still giggling.

Kurt could scarcely believe he'd heard the words at all. He slowly turned towards Blaine, heart racing like a runaway train.

Only when Blaine met the boy's gaze did he realize his mental slip. His bright, beautiful smile quickly faded and his amber eyes widened only slightly from an inward terror as he made to exit the dead-end. "Come on. We should find the others and head back to school…"

"Blaine, I heard what you said." Kurt was never one for avoiding the topic at hand or sweeping something under the rug. He wanted an explanation, especially when a possible relationship with the boy he was in love with hung in the balance.

He watched as Blaine stopped, back falling in defeat. The handsome boy turned and commanded his full attention to Kurt. He ran his fingers through his wavy brown locks of hair as he fumbled with the words. "I don't know where to begin…"

Kurt folded his arms and gave a small smile. "Julie Andrews taught us that the beginning is a very good place to start."

Blaine fought back a tiny chuckle, catching the _Sound of Music_ reference. "Look Kurt, the reason why I broke up with Jeremiah on my birthday is because, well, I don't really know how to say this…"

He truly struggled. Kurt waited patiently for him to come to his senses. "…Basically, there comes a time when you finally realize that the one thing you've been looking for has been with you all along." He smiled up at Kurt with soft, moist eyes. "Hearing you sing over the phone at Sectionals... That was my realization, and I knew that I had to break off all romantic ties with Jeremiah immediately because I didn't want to go leading the boy on, making him believe that I still liked him. That would have been just plain cruel."

Blaine stepped forward and held Kurt's hand tenderly. "I love and care about you, Kurt. So much. I may not be very experienced or well-seasoned when it comes to relationships, but I know how I feel about you, and I know that I want to give this a shot, but I don't want to screw it up. I'll have you only if you'll have me, Kurt."

Kurt forced himself to be strong and composed. He fought back any tears that he felt were coming on. He was touched and moved by Blaine's brazen honesty and confession. They were the words he'd been waiting so long to hear. "Blaine, of course I'll have you. However, I'll admit that I've been in love with you since…" Here, he began to tear up slightly, for he just couldn't help himself. "…Since I first laid eyes on you."

Blaine brought him close for a warm hug and the two stood there for quite some time in silence. Kurt breathed in the intoxicating natural scent of Blaine's body. It was a sweet, nostalgic smell that he somehow associated with springtime and a specific type of flower that his mother used to plant in the garden every year. He knew he was going to grow very accustomed to it.

When they finally pulled apart, Kurt broke the silence. "So, we're kind of a thing now, aren't we?"

Blaine smiled and chuckled. "Why yes, it would appear we are." He raised an eyebrow, and Kurt found himself laughing at the playful antics of his boyfriend.

_Boyfriend_. The word was foreign and new in his mouth. It used to be something different, unobtainable, something the boy could only appreciate from afar but could never hold or see or touch. Now, it had an entirely new meaning to him. It meant comfort, joy, and passion. Kurt was new to relationships and dating, but he knew that there was no one else he'd rather be with.

"I just have one request," Kurt said, holding his hand up. "Is it okay if we go slowly? I'd just rather not rush into things."

Blaine flashed him a smile. "By all means, let's." He smiled softly at Kurt and the two started heading back towards campus. "I wonder what happened to the other guys. I hope they made it out of harm's way."

Kurt snorted in reply. "Please, if escaping the clutches of Headmaster Kane is not incentive enough, then I don't know what is!" The boys laughed once more.

"Hey, Kurt…?"

"Yes?"

"Would we be moving too fast if we held hands?"

Kurt was touched by the question and simply answered the handsome Warbler's query by taking his hand in his own. They both shared a mutual smile as they began their trek back to the dormitories.

* * *

><p>"Sir, I'm almost certain there was a fire in the woods tonight! I saw smoke rising above the trees!"<p>

Allan Kane paced back and forth in his office wearing his polka-dot pajamas. He scanned Jeremiah's face to be absolutely certain that the young man was not making any of this information up. "I believe you, Jeremiah," he said with a crackly voice. He had just been forced to wake up, after all. "Still, it just doesn't make sense to me."

Jeremiah stood tall. "Sir, I apologize greatly for waking you, even if it ended up being a false alarm. I just didn't want to take any chances. What if it had been a really fast-growing blaze? One can never tell."

The headmaster gently rubbed the bridge of his nose. "No, you were right to take the necessary actions that you took. Still, it just doesn't make sense to me how…"

Allan stopped himself mid-sentence as a cold shiver ran down his spine. _The Sons of Ignatius Dalton_, he thought to himself, but he wasn't sure whether to believe such craziness. It was just an old Dalton Academy legend after all.

Jeremiah noticed a change on the headmaster's face. "Sir, is something wrong?"

The headmaster shook his head. "I'm just thinking," the older man replied, taking a seat at his desk to relax his brain, which was swimming in possible thoughts and ideas. "It's just… There's an old legend here at the Academy that has been passed down from students and faculty throughout the years. It's the tale of a secret, clandestine society that was founded by the Academy's very own glee club shortly after founder and first headmaster Ignatius Dalton's death in 1911."

The blonde young man tilted his head in confusion. "The Warblers, sir?" Of course, after dating their star soloist, he knew all about the famed Dalton Academy's glee club.

Allan Kane looked up at him with dead serious eyes. "Yes, the Warblers. The story goes that after the headmaster's passing, the Warblers formed a secret society in the dead man's honor. He was, throughout his life, a lover of music and the Arts, and he was also the very first coach of the glee club."

Jeremiah stood and listened attentively as the headmaster continued. "After Ignatius Dalton's passing, the Warbler boys gathered together to honor and keep the spirit of their beloved coach alive. They moved underground, where it is said that the boys managed to conjure the spirit and seek his assistance or protection using ancient rituals and pagan practices.

"Now, some say that the Sons discontinued after a number of years. Others think that the entire story is contrived and that the Sons never even existed. What do you think about it, Jeremiah?"

The young man shook his head. "I don't think I know nearly enough on the subject to judge, sir."

Allan nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's a tough one to call." A sudden, heady idea came to his head and he turned to face the young man standing before him. "Jeremiah, I want you to do something for me…"

The blonde boy audibly gulped, worried that the headmaster had plans to send him to the darkened woods at night to search for this supposed secret society. "What would you like me to do, sir?"

The headmaster smiled wickedly. "I want you to act as a double agent. I want you to get to know these boys, immerse yourself in their culture and everyday lives, and should anything suspicious arise, you report it all to me. Is that clear?"

Jeremiah realized that he would be engaging in entrapment. He prayed that nothing would go awry, for he hated the idea that he might have to turn innocent people over to the man whose authority he now answered to. What of Blaine? He had been the Warblers' star performer. He just couldn't fathom the idea of turning him in. Jeremiah knew he was caught in a compromising situation. Nevertheless, he simply responded with a soft "Yes, sir."

Allan gave the young man a vicious smile. "Excellent." The headmaster gave a cruel chuckle. He was finally going to get back at the Warblers for breaking his rules by going to Sectionals. He was going to show them that he was not someone to be trifled with. And, were the Sons of Ignatius Dalton fact instead of fiction, he would blow the whole secret wide open.

**To be continued…**


	20. The Winding Road to Regionals Part One

**Hello everybody! Please forgive my absence for the better part of ten days. I've been focusing so much on the details of my story that I realize that I've been taking a lot more time than expected. Still, I am almost done with the second part of this chapter. The entire document was totaled at 31 pages, at which point I knew I had to split it into two parts. Anyway, this is part one of the Warblers preparing for Regionals! As per a few chapters ago, I mentioned that we would be hearing more about Jeff Honeycutt. You most certainly will… Thank you so much for your feedback and commentary, and please enjoy! **

The Woodrow Wilson Library, so named for one of Dalton Academy's more well-known graduates, was a beautiful art deco building on the western side of campus. It was adorned with busts of authors and famous thinkers from throughout the ages, all of whom could be seen filling the frescoes that lined the roof. Above the entrance, carved in the smooth white marble, was an inscription that read: "A room without books is like a body without a soul." –Cicero. It was Jeff Honeycutt's favorite building on campus, and it was also where he spent third period.

Jeff decided to take "Library Science" for an elective when no other classes seemed to interest him. He didn't even know that such a course had existed. Nevertheless, he was thankful for it. For one hour each day, he was the overlord of the grand sanctuary he referred to as his home away from home.

The blonde Warbler ascended the sliding ladder, restoring an old copy of _Wuthering Heights_ back to its rightful place on the literature shelf. He smiled, stepped down off the ladder, and took a step back to survey his work and to breathe in the intoxicating scent of old books. Beautiful, he thought to himself. There was no greater sight than shelves fully stocked with exciting adventures and marvelous escapes.

He headed back to his place behind the checkout counter and picked up where he'd left off in _The Chinatown Death Cloud Peril_, an excellent pulp novel that he was beginning to think was his new favorite book. He was a sucker for square-jawed tough guys and dames in distress and enjoyed the exotic locales that the story had to offer. But try as he might, he just couldn't shake the sting of his father's words only minutes before.

The blonde Warbler had gotten into an argument over the phone with his parents again. Of course, it was the same old topic they were always arguing about: his future. He was due to inherit the family law practice back home in Atlanta, Georgia once he graduated from college. However, he'd told them time and again that he just didn't feel like law was his true calling. At first, his father and mother merely shrugged it off, thinking that it was something their only child would warm up to with time. As he grew older, his parents felt the Honeycutt and Crabtree practice to be in jeopardy, and more or less forced the boy into his fate. He made an agreement with himself that he would have absolutely no part in it. He loved his parents dearly and realized that they were looking out for his well-being and interest, but he refused to be forced into a profession that he simply didn't enjoy. It was as if they didn't even try to understand him.

Jeff put the book down and rubbed his tired eyes. This latest verbal exchange with his parents could not have taken place at a worse time. He, along with his fellow glee clubbers, was already preoccupied about Regionals, which were a mere week away. They weren't prepared, physically or emotionally. Their morale was absolutely dreadful due to even more crackdowns from the headmaster, (the entire school was essentially on lockdown,) and to make matters worse, they couldn't even seek the aid of Ignatius Dalton in the choosing of their songs because his grave was no longer accessible, (a ten-foot tall chain link fence topped with razor wire had been put up around the woods so that no student could enter.)

In addition to all the outside chaos, he had been having strange, dark thoughts that were leading him into a deep depression. Jeff could hardly ignore some of the things he'd been thinking as of late. He had even started to question if anyone truly noticed him at all. He felt invisible. The only person who seemed to really care was Kurt Hummel.

Still, he did his best to shake the darkness from his mind, as it truly frightened him that he was capable of such morbid curiosities. He picked up the book and, for the first time in his life, forced himself to read, which proved to be easier said than done.

* * *

><p>"Do you think it'll work?"<p>

Blaine's questioning yet intense gaze burned into Kurt's cheek as he sat opposite the handsome boy at a window table at the Lima Bean. In the bright, natural light shining in through the glass, he looked absolutely radiant and stunning.

Kurt still couldn't believe that he and Blaine were now officially boyfriends. Where had this extraordinary stroke of luck and blessing in disguise come from? His head was still spinning. He didn't even care. All he knew was that he was happy now that life had made an exciting turnaround for him. Despite all the crap that was going on at school, he knew that Blaine would be his guiding light through all the darkness and despair.

Kurt sipped his Grande nonfat mocha nonchalantly. "Trust me, even if it doesn't work, I'm sure we'll arrange something." He smiled confidently, completely hiding any trace of nervousness. The plan had to work, or else there would be no way for the Warblers to get to Columbus for Regionals, which would leave them completely screwed.

He caught Blaine staring at him. He grinned sheepishly. "What's wrong? Is there something on my face?"

"You're amazing, you know that, right?" Blaine shook his head almost in disbelief as he looked Kurt over. The other boy could feel his face flush as he smiled. The two held hands across the table, giving them an affectionate squeeze.

"Hello boys!"

Kurt turned and was greeted by Rachel Berry, Mercedes Jones, Artie Abrams, and Brittany Pierce. They immediately unclasped their hands. Kurt hadn't told his friends that he and Blaine officially were an item. The three took turns embracing the New Directions expatriate and gave warm salutations to Blaine.

"What's new with you?" Mercedes asked Kurt with concern. "We've been seeing your Facebook commentary on the fascist regime that's taken over Dalton Academy."

"Where's Jeff?" Everyone stared as Brittany looked around the coffee shop. "He and I are going to make beautiful babies."

Kurt rolled his eyes, returning to Mercedes' question as if nothing had happened. "It's terrible! Headmaster Kane essentially has the school on lockdown!"

"We hardly have fun anymore," Blaine contributed with a wan smile. "He's gone nuts…"

"…More so than usual," Kurt added, nodding in agreement. "And that's why we're here. As you know, Regionals is next week…"

Rachel and Mercedes only showed a hint of uncertainty. After all, they were Dalton Academy's competition. Artie leaned forward conspiratorially, raising an eyebrow. "What do you want us to do, Kurt? Take the headmaster out and topple his stronghold? He's trippin'!"

Kurt laughed. He missed Artie's humor. "No, we're not planning an overthrow," he said with a grin. "We just don't have his permission to go to Regionals…"

"…But we're defying him and going anyway," Blaine finished enthusiastically. "Well, they're going. I'm not going for reasons too lengthy to explain." Kurt gave him a saddened look, remembering the study sessions he was still being forced into. "There's just one small problem…"

"Basically," Kurt continued. He did his best to be sure his voice didn't break. "We're wondering if the Warblers could borrow one of McKinley High's school buses to drive us to and from Columbus."

Rachel, Mercedes, and Artie all smiled. "Of course!" Rachel smiled brightly. "I'm sure Mr. Schue will gladly sign off on it. You guys may be the competition, but we have to help each other out in a state of emergency!" Mercedes, Brittany, and Artie nodded vigorously in approval.

Kurt and Blaine exchanged grins and high-fived each other. "Great! The Warblers are going to Regionals!" The boys stood up and embraced excitedly as the other three joined in the exuberant display.

"Now, if we win, you'll have to find your own way back to Westerville!" Everyone laughed at Rachel's comment before she, Mercedes and Artie filled Kurt in on all the happenings at McKinley High. Blaine seemed confused when Brittany pulled him aside and started saying something about dolphins being "gay sharks."

* * *

><p>Wes banged the gavel against the podium, trying to create a semblance of order over the Sons of Ignatius Dalton. Once it was quiet, he spoke, voice booming and echoing throughout the old church. "Brothers, tonight is a most momentous occasion in that Brother Blaine and Brother Kurt have returned from a completely surprise trip to Lima triumphant. They have managed, with the help of the McKinley High New Directions, to secure us transportation to and from the Regionals competition in Columbus!"<p>

The room erupted into raucous applause and cheers. Wes gestured for the two boys to rise and they reluctantly stood up from the second row, bowing slightly around the room in humbled gratitude.

As the din died down, Wes picked up where he left off. "As terrific as this news is, it still does not eradicate the fact that we remain greatly unprepared for the competition next week. As I'm sure you're all aware by now, Headmaster Kane has ordered that a ten-foot high chain link fence complete with razor wire and electric current be built around the woods on the Northeast side of campus. This means that we, until further notice, are separated from Ignatius Dalton's final resting place."

A hushed, sorrowful silence overtook the sanctuary. "Of course, with this distressing news in mind, we can no longer perform the traditional song selection ceremony." He gulped, knowing that his next sentence would create quite a stir among his fellow Warblers. "Therefore, Thad, David, and I propose that we choose our own songs this time around."

As expected, the room burst into loud calls of disapproval. "That's it, we're done for!" Trent sat biting his nails dramatically in the back of the pews as Nick and Jeff gave him comforting pats on the back.

"Point of order!" Wes held his hands up and indicated Thad and David's presence. "We three completely analyzed the Sons' codex of laws and nowhere does it state that we cannot choose our own songs. I think this to be our best bet as of now. Let's just focus on the task ahead and hope and pray that our choices are the wise ones."

Thad and David went up and down the aisles handing out blank sheets of lined paper. A collected, depressed sigh lingered over the room. The boys knew it was going to be quite a long night.

* * *

><p>Blaine opened the door to the headmaster's office. He forced himself to be as chipper and positive as he possibly could, despite his extreme sleepiness and bitter hatred for his oppressor. The wretched man had summoned him during lunch hour and he was not about to face him with any obvious hostility. That very well could result in disaster and expulsion.<p>

He was exhausted, having spent most of the previous evening in the old church with the Sons, trying to come up with song choices for Regionals. In the end, there had been too much indecisiveness for the Warblers to arrive at a set decision. Blaine was even more concerned for his fellow glee clubbers because the competition was now only six days away.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

The headmaster looked up and smiled venomously, baring his crooked teeth. "Well, well," Allan Kane chuckled wickedly. Blaine was not amused. "If it isn't Mr. Anderson…" He gestured to the cushy chair in front of his desk and watched as the boy sat.

Headmaster Kane folded his wrinkled, pock-marked hands and placed them before him. "The reason I have summoned you here this afternoon is because I will temporarily be halting your study sessions next week due to the fact that I'll be attending an education seminar with the Ohio School Board in Cleveland next Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday."

Blaine's head nearly snapped off, it turned so fast. He wasn't sure if he had heard the man correctly. "Sir?"

Allan Kane looked perturbed before speaking again, cupping his mouth with this hands. "You're going to have a few days off from our study sessions! Are you that inept that you couldn't understand what I was saying before?"

The handsome Warbler didn't even notice nor care about the snide remark. All he could think about was being given the chance to perform on the Regionals stage! The headmaster held his hand up. "This does not mean that we're through, however. A hopeless case such as yourself has quite a long way to go. I just wanted to give you the proper forewarning so that you wouldn't overexert yourself climbing the stairs to my office."

Blaine wasn't listening. He had tuned the rambling idiot out long before this latest rant. He couldn't believe how easy it was going to be for the Warblers to sneak out to Regionals what with all the lax security that was sure to be taking place.

"Just make a note of it, because with your memory, nothing's ever built to last" the headmaster said, snapping Blaine out of his deep thoughts. "Now, get the hell out of my office."

The handsome boy had never been faster to oblige. He picked up his satchel and was out of the office faster than a roadrunner. When Blaine reached the bottom of the Main Hall staircase, he was suddenly struck with a spark of inspiration. Something that the headmaster said had set him off on the revelation. He had a brilliant idea for at least one of the numbers for the competition. He didn't know where the thought had come from, but he was grateful. He rushed outside the Main Hall and headed toward the senior commons in nearby Preston Hall.

Jeremiah Evans immediately jumped into his line of vision. Blaine desperately wanted not to be seen, but this was proving near impossible as his ex-boyfriend was directly before him. The young man shook his blonde locks out of his eyes as he approached the handsome Warbler.

In an instant, the two were facing each other, averting their gazes and staring at the tops of their shoes awkwardly.

"Hey Blaine…"

"Hey…"

The silence that followed was thicker than old mashed potatoes. You could practically cut it with a knife.

Jeremiah instantly woke from his uncomfortable coma and started to speak with a sudden urgency. "Blaine, there's something I need to say to you…"

Blaine wouldn't have it. "There's nothing more that can be said, Jeremiah. If you're trying to get me back, I'm afraid there's been a change of heart. I'm really sorry about all of this, but I just can't be with you anymore. I know you don't like Kurt, but this is the way it is." He held his hand up and was about to stride away when his ex-boyfriend called out after him:

"It's Allan Kane!"

Blaine froze. Now he was interested. He quickly walked back to where the golden blonde young man was now sheepishly searching the grounds making sure that no one had heard him speak the name.

Blaine's eyebrows nearly touched the stratosphere they were raised so high. "What about the headmaster?"

"He knows you're up to something! I don't know what you and the Warblers are planning, but you've got to stop!" He sensed genuine concern in Jeremiah's plea.

Blaine stepped forward defensively. "Listen, that old coot wouldn't be suspecting anything if his henchman wasn't snooping around, sticking his nose into business where it doesn't belong!"

His ex was cornered with nowhere to hide. Jeremiah held his hands up defensively. "I'm just doing my job, but I can't bear to see you get into any trouble."

The burning gaze that had been in Blaine's eyes only moments before suddenly softened. However, he was still leery about the sudden change of heart on Jeremiah's end. "Look, I don't know why you're telling me this, but I will inform the others to be careful and on the lookout. But should the headmaster summon all of us to his office at some point, I'll know who was responsible." He pointed a threatening finger at Jeremiah before storming off toward Preston Hall, leaving the jilted young man to watch Blaine's retreating figure. The blonde young man sulked away, knowing there was nothing else he could do or say that would help the situation.

"Hey, Jeremiah..."

He turned, surprised that Blaine had returned momenatarily.

The boy with the golden eyes smiled. "If you're telling the truth... Thank you."

Jeremiah smiled softly. "Of course. We have to look out for one another, don't we?"

Blaine grinned and chuckled before he turned to head over to Preston Hall.

"Blaine?"

The handsome Warbler turned once more at the calling of his name.

"Kurt's a very lucky guy," Jeremiah said. "I hope he's taking good care of you."

Blaine nodded slowly before heading over to the senior commons, leaving the blonde young man to contemplate all that had just transpired between them.

* * *

><p>The senior commons was near silent during lunch hour. Various Warblers were studying, reading, or catching up on homework assignments. When Blaine burst through the wooden doors of the senior commons, everyone jumped, startled.<p>

He smirked. "Guess who's going to Regionals with you guys?"

The short silence that followed was broken when the boys cheered and hoisted Blaine onto their shoulders and into the room.

"Guys," he said as his feet were once again safe on solid ground. "Get Wes and the others gathered. I've got a plan for a song we could sing for the competition."

* * *

><p>Kurt found Jeff seated in the center row of the very same auditorium where he had spoken with the ghost of Ignatius Dalton. He'd only minutes before received a text from the blonde Warbler. He was startled, for Jeff usually wrote lengthy, elaborate messages. This time, the text had been brief and simple, almost completely devoid of his usual heart and enthusiasm: I need to talk to someone. You've always understood me. Meet me in the Dalton Cinematheque during lunch hour. Kurt didn't know what was going on, but it didn't sound good.<p>

Jeff was the lone person in the entire auditorium. On the screen, the handsome Errol Flynn and the wonderfully talented Basil Rathbone were engaged in a heated swordfight, the two exchanging witty puns and wordplay. Kurt immediately recognized the film as The Adventures of Robin Hood, one of the first full Technicolor achievements in American movies.

As he took a seat next to Jeff, he saw that the boy was mouthing along with the dialogue. Kurt smiled. "You know this movie quite well, don't you?"

"Like the back of my hand," Jeff replied, eyes still glued to the action onscreen. "It's one of my all-time favorites."

"I can see that," Kurt grinned. "I just received your text. Is everything okay?"

The boy averted his gaze from the screen and Kurt saw worry and sadness in his eyes for the very first time. "No, it really isn't, Kurt. It's my life. It's all a shambles."

He shook his head as Kurt continued to watch him, listening intently. "Why does everything have to be so complicated? The headmaster continues to maintain his stronghold over us, I'm still single, my parents are forcing me into a career I want nothing to do with…"

"Wait, whoa, hold on a minute," Kurt stopped him. "What's this about your parents?"

Jeff sighed forlornly. "It's my dad mostly, although my mom certainly isn't helping. My dad is a lawyer. My great-great-great grandfather, Hiram Honeycutt, and an old friend, Griffith Crabtree, opened a small law practice in antebellum Atlanta called Honeycutt and Crabtree. Somehow, even after the destruction and chaos of the Civil War, Hiram returned to continue his work as a well-known lawman. Old Griffith had died of a gangrene infection a few months before the war was over and yet my great-great-great grandfather never took off the 'Crabtree' name from the firm.

"After Hiram passed years later, his son, my great-great grandfather, took over the practice. Essentially, every Honeycutt descendant has inherited the practice, and I'm due as the next 'heir to the throne.'"

Kurt nodded. "And you want to be the complete opposite of what they want you to be?"

It was Jeff's turn to nod. "Exactly! I want to be a writer, Kurt. I want to pen articles and novels and screenplays! I want to make something of myself so when, years from now, after I'm long gone, people will instantly recognize my name and the legacy I left behind!"

Kurt wanted applaud. He had never met anyone in high school who already had such a clear vision of their future. Even he was stumped as to what he wanted to do. "That's what college is for," Burt Hummel always told his son. "You figure out your tastes and your life's calling when you're there."

"Why don't you tell them about all this? Why don't you just get on the phone and call them?"

Jeff shook his head. "It's not that simple, Kurt. With my parents, it's never that easy."

He rested his head on Kurt's shoulder and the angel-faced boy did all he could to comfort him. "My life's falling apart, Kurt. Everything seems to be unraveling. What do I do?"

His heart nearly broke when he heard Jeff's silent sobs. Kurt simply hugged the boy close and stared at the images on the screen as Errol Flynn's Robin Hood and Basil Rathbone's Sir Guy engaged in fiery mortal combat.

* * *

><p>Wes' mouth hung open in surprise as the Warblers excitedly discussed Blaine's idea for the competition.<p>

"You want us to sing a punk song?"

Blaine held his hands up. "It's not really a punk song, Wes! It's more a rock and roll choral arrangement written by Billie Joe Armstrong! It just hit me as I was walking out of the headmaster's office. Green Day's '21 Guns' as sung by the cast of the musical _American Idiot_! Just hear me out, Wes!"

The senior councilmember shook his head. "The Warblers have never, ever in their entire history, performed a song by a punk artist or band. Though we love the music, we always felt it to be too progressive for our Ohio audiences, and we prefer to avoid controversy. We don't want to get sued…"

Kurt, the musical theatre maven of the group, clapped his hands excitedly. It was a terrific song and a beautiful arrangement, and he already knew that it would sound amazing with the Warblers singing it. "If I may, Wes, this song is a brilliant choice! It's a great choral arrangement, which is perfect for glee club, and it has a very powerful message! Besides, this is our chance to step out of our boundaries!"

Thad sided with Kurt and Blaine. "Wes, you're missing the big picture! You're always saying that we should try something different, and I think Blaine is giving us our chance!" This claim was met with approving applause from the other Warblers.

The boy with the golden eyes nodded, looking to Wes. The senior councilmember sighed in defeat. "All in favor of Brother Blaine's proposal for '21 Guns' at Regionals raise your hands."

A flurry of raised arms filled the room. Wes spoke, taking note of the votes. "Of course, we'll have to audition those prospective Warblers who wish to sing at the competition…"

Blaine stopped him. "No, no auditions for this one. We don't have time! I think the lead vocals should be given on a volunteer basis. There are so many solo parts, and I think that this would be a great opportunity to showcase some other voices."

For the longest time, no one said anything. It wasn't until Kurt rose to his feet that any excitement began to take place. "I'd love to volunteer." Blaine smiled and Kurt grinned in response.

Thad stood up next. "I volunteer myself to sing a few lines." Blaine smiled and watched as David, Trent, and Jeff all stood up and voiced their desire to lend their solo voices to the song.

Wes banged the gavel against the table. "It's decided. A rock ballad at Regionals it is!"

The boys clapped in support of the wonderful idea and at the fact that they were now somewhat prepared for the competition. They were still without a group number, but that would be chosen later on.

Kurt applauded as well and made eye contact with Blaine. The handsome boy flirtatiously winked at him, causing his heart to flutter like a butterfly with spasms.

**To be continued… **


	21. The Winding Road to Regionals Part Two

**Hello there! As promised, here is part two of the Regionals chapter. I apologize, but just to give a little forewarning, the ending is a little dark, but it all happens for a reason. Seriously, my eyes started to well up a bit as I wrote the ending because I know people who have attempted such a thing before. Nevertheless, thank you so much for following my story and as always I appreciate your feedback.**

"Dad, I've decided that I want to be a writer…"

The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening. Jeff could hear his mom sighing heavily in the background.

He had decided to take Kurt's advice and tackle the issue at hand. It was already bad enough that Headmaster Kane was making his life difficult at school. He certainly didn't want life at home to be at the same (or worse) level.

Edwin Honeycutt cleared his throat uncomfortably before addressing his son. When he spoke, it was with an iciness that he had never heard before. "_Now you listen to me, son. We are not spending our good, hard-earned dollars for prep school in Ohio so that you can study to be a… A…_" The word was almost too despicable for him to even force out. "_…A_ writer!" He heard a dramatic whimper from his mom.

Jeff had had enough. "Why can't I be? It's _my_ life and _my _future! I should be able to have the first say in the matter! Besides, it's not like the South is illiterate! What about Tennessee Williams? Margaret Mitchell? If I became a writer, I'd be partaking in an honorable Southern legacy!"

"_ENOUGH OF THIS TALK!_" He could almost imagine his father, red-faced with veins bulging out of his neck. "_You are not going to be a writer! You are going to be a lawyer, goddamn it! You will follow in my footsteps and continue the legacy that old Hiram Honeycutt began back in 1854! I don't want to hear another argument about it, IS THAT CLEAR?_"

Jeff, who was never one to show too much emotion, started to cry. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and sobbed softly to himself. Why couldn't they just accept it? Why couldn't his parents take the time to understand their only child?

"_And don't cry! You're stronger than that!_"

That did it. "You'll be glad to know that there are plenty of men who cry! And don't worry. You won't have to concern yourself about me upsetting you anymore, because I just might trade that judge's gavel in for a harp!"

"_Now you just wait a goddamn…!_"

Jeff closed his phone and threw it against the wall, the battery flying out. He sobbed violently into his pillow. The emotional pain cut through him like a knife. He cursed his parents' stubbornness and their inability to grant their only child's wishes. He hugged himself tightly to try and ease the angry shaking that coursed through his entire body.

He would show them. An idea was already forming in the back of his mind. The thought was the darkest and most morbid he'd had yet, but he knew it was probably for the better. He just couldn't take the struggles of life anymore. _I'm going to do it_, he thought to himself. _I'll show them!_ He nodded.

But first, he was going to Regionals. _If I'm going to go, I want to go out in a blaze of glory!_ He suddenly had an idea for the group number, and he would volunteer to sing the lead. He put his phone back together and immediately texted Wes.

* * *

><p>Kurt couldn't sleep. The day of Regionals had arrived and he was frantic knowing that, within a matter of hours, he and his fellow glee-clubbers would be due at the Paramount Theatre in Columbus, Ohio. He was simply imagining that everything that could possibly go wrong would. The thoughts that had pulsed through his mind were enough to jar him awake, and that's what was frightening him.<p>

He was even more startled when there was a soft knock on his door. _Who could that be?_ Confused, he answered the door, only to find Blaine leaning suavely against the doorframe in, of all things, a bathrobe, pajama pants, and fluffy slippers. Kurt marveled at the fact that, even in such clothes, he remained so attractive.

"Oh, hey Kurt!" Blaine instantly straightened up. He seemed surprised that Kurt had answered the door. "I was just heading out of the bathroom when I saw your light on through the second-story window and assumed that you were probably awake…"

Kurt smiled at the delightful awkwardness of the entire scenario, barely believing that it was happening at all. "That was a pretty accurate assumption. Come on in, Blaine."

His boyfriend smiled and entered the room. "What's going on? Why are you up so late?"

Kurt ran his hands through his hair, which somehow managed to maintain its well-coiffed shape even in the dead of night. "Everything is on my mind. That's why you find me awake at odd hours of the evening when I should really be resting up and saving my energy and strength for Regionals which are mere hours away!"

He looked up to find that Blaine had narrowed his eyes in confusion during the entire rant. "I'm sorry," Kurt quickly added as he watched Blaine take a seat on the edge of his bed. "I'm probably just stressing myself out."

Blaine smiled warmly and patted the area of mattress on the opposite side of the bed. Kurt took a seat with a soft plop.

The handsome Warbler gazed intently into Kurt's sea-blue eyes as he took the boy's hand. "Do you trust me?"

At first, Kurt felt this to be a strange question. Of course he did! They were friends as well as boyfriends, after all. "Of course I do," he simply responded, feeling almost breathless after being hypnotized by the liquid gold stare.

Blaine turned away from Kurt so that the two boys' backs were facing one another. "Lean up against me, Kurt…"

The words sounded almost sensual, taboo, forbidden, and yet he found himself leaning against his boyfriend, back-to-back.

Their hands clasped and it was almost as if the two melded into one being, each feeling the other breathing. "Now, take a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth."

Kurt took a few breaths. He had never heard Blaine's voice so commanding and yet so smooth and relaxing at the same time.

After a few calming breaths, Blaine continued to instruct. "Close your eyes, Kurt. I want you to clear your mind of everything. You should see nothing but a dark, black void before you."

Kurt did as he was told and sure enough, within minutes, he noticed that his thoughts were completely nonexistent. It was as if everything had disappeared. He was simply _being_.

Blaine's sultry voice seemed to come from miles away. "Only now can you be at peace. Only now can you become one with the universe and know that everything will go according to plan. In the grand scheme of things, everything will work out exactly as you want it to."

Kurt could feel himself smiling as a warm pleasure filled him with light and joy. He decided he would focus on meditation whenever he was stressed from then on.

Suddenly, despite the fact that his eyes were closed, he sensed that someone was standing directly in front of him. The warm, smooth hand that caressed his cheek let him know that it was Blaine. The strangest thing was that Kurt had been so focused on concentration that he hadn't noticed that their hands had unclasped and that the boy had moved at all.

He could feel warm, voluptuous lips brush his own, and yet he wasn't nervous in the least. Even after the traumatic encounter with Dave Karofsky in the locker room, nothing could prepare him for the sweet tenderness of Blaine's kiss. It was unlike anything Kurt had ever experienced and he knew in that moment that he would never want to kiss another set of lips ever again. Blaine's lips were his permanent address.

The boy finally opened his eyes after the two had disengaged from the kiss. Sure enough, Blaine's face was mere inches from his and was resting on the other end of the elongated pillow. Kurt realized that he had somehow managed to lie down on the bed during his metaphysical experience. He didn't know how it was possible.

The two laughed at the near absurdity of the situation. As their laughter died down, Blaine spoke, gently stroking Kurt's soft face. "Feeling better?"

"Actually, yes," Kurt nodded.

"Good," Blaine replied not taking his eyes off the beautifully crafted face that stared back at him. "I think it's time you get some sleep."

Kurt's smiled but noticed that Blaine wasn't leaving the mattress. His heart started racing. He wasn't sure he was comfortable to have Blaine sleeping in the same bed. "Wait, I don't think we should do…"

His expression must have been easy to read because Blaine said, "Oh, no! Don't worry. That's the last thing on my mind." He smiled warmly. "I just thought maybe you'd want to cuddle to further calm your nerves."

The puppy dog face that Kurt had come to love was causing his heart to melt. As if responding, he sidled up against Blaine's slim yet warm and welcoming frame. "Don't get yourself worked up over the competition," he said, running his fingers through Kurt's silky smooth hair. "You'll be terrific. I just know it."

They were the last words Kurt heard before falling asleep in Blaine's embrace.

* * *

><p>The school bus on loan from McKinley High arrived on schedule at 9:00 am and was on the road by 9:30. It was relatively easy for the Warblers to sneak across the campus that morning, as the headmaster's few days off had begun.<p>

Kurt spoke with Rachel on the other bus via the radio system.

"_Yay! You're on your way!_" Her voice cracked through the old radio.

Kurt held down the button and spoke. "By the way, the Warblers have something to say to you guys."

He raised the hand-held into the air and the boys chorused "THANKS, NEW DIRECTIONS!" They clapped and cheered and Kurt smiled at the togetherness he suddenly felt for both glee clubs.

"Well, I best head back to my seat," Kurt said, smiling. "We'll see you when we get there!"

"_BYE, KURT!_" Tears of happiness almost came to his eyes when he heard everybody on the New Directions, including Mr. Schuester, over the radio speaker. He clicked it off and replaced it on the dashboard.

He took his seat next to Blaine who grinned warmly up at him. Kurt smiled back, and he knew that he was ready for the competition. A week prior, the Warblers hadn't even thought about their plans for Regionals, and yet there they were, on a bus speeding toward Columbus with two songs and a winning attitude. Kurt was ecstatic as he watched the rolling countryside pass by in a blur out the window.

_Bring it on! _He thought to himself.

None of the boys on the bus noticed or had any inkling that the very same silver Chevy Cruze had been following them since they left Dalton Academy. Had they been paying attention and looked closely through the driver's side window, they would have seen a blonde, curly-haired young man whose green eyes were hidden behind large aviator sunglasses.

* * *

><p>Jeff sat at the very back of the bus going over the song for the group number he'd suggested to Wes a week before. His heart was racing but not because he was nervous about the competition. It was after the competition that he was worried about. He was still questioning his sanity for what he planned to do.<p>

The blonde Warbler shook his head as if doing so would rattle his thoughts. _No, you're not backing out of this!_ He folded the sheet music up and placed it in his satchel. _Dad always used to tell me to stick to your guns. Well, this will prove to him that I can._ He looked out the window and noticed that the sun passing behind a cloud turned the sky a temporary blood-red. He shuddered, feeling it an appropriate omen of what was coming for him later.

* * *

><p>The Warblers didn't know how they managed to sit through Aural Intensity's rendition of "Jesus is a Friend of Mine." David stared, mouth agape in horror and disgust while Thad slowly shook his head. Kurt caught Mercedes' eye a couple rows down and the two made gestures signifying that killing themselves would prove to be a viable solution to this travesty. It completely made sense that Sue Sylvester had been the one to coach these kids. It wasn't that they sounded terrible or anything, it was simply a very poor song choice.<p>

Before they knew it, the Warblers were headed backstage to the green room for warm-ups. They had absolutely no idea that at that very moment, Jeremiah was taking his seat in the back of the theatre, waiting to see them perform.

Wes led the boys in a football-style huddle. "Alright, gents," he began. "Let's take a step back and realize that one week ago, we weren't prepared in the least. Look how far we've come in seven measly days? It shows that we work well together and motivate each other. I just want to congratulate all of you on your willpower, focus, and drive this past week."

They all clapped before the senior councilmember continued. "Now, Kurt and Blaine will be taking the lead vocals for the duet first before Jeff, Thad, David, Trent, and myself come in. Then, we'll all be sure and follow Jeff for the group number. Let's also please give him a round of applause because this is his first solo singing debut at any competition."

Jeff was touched by the pats on the back and the applause he received. It made his decision for later that evening all the more difficult to come to terms with.

The boys' heads turned when they heard the emcee sending Aural Intensity off the stage. "That's us," Wes said with a pumped-up grin. "In the words of Katy Perry, 'Show 'em what you're worth!'"

* * *

><p>"Now, this next group performed smashing renditions of Keane and Sara Bareilles songs back at Sectionals a couple months ago. Please welcome to The Ohio State Regional High School Show Choir Competition, for the fifth year in a row, the Dalton Academy Warblers!" Loud, approving applause temporarily filled the performance space. The curtain rose as the Warblers set up the beautiful, hauntingly moving melody of "21 Guns."<p>

Kurt stepped forward into the spotlight and sang with such emotion that a complete hush had come over the audience:

"_Do you know what's worth fighting for when it's not worth dying for? Does it take your breath away and you feel yourself suffocating?_"

Blaine stepped forward into another spotlight and picked up where Kurt left off:

"_Does the pain weigh out the pride?_"

Kurt sang the next lyric:

"_And you look for a place to hide…_"

Shivers ran down Kurt's spine as the backing vocals melded beautifully together to create the harmony. Blaine took the last lyric before the chorus:

"_Did someone break your heart inside? You're in ruins…_"

It was then that Blaine did something that Kurt was not at all expecting: He took Kurt's hand in his own and looked directly into his eyes. All he could do was stare back in awe and surprise as their fingers interlocked and he continued to sing:

"_One, twenty-one guns, lay down your arms, give up the fight…_"

Kurt joined in to create the harmony as his and Blaine's voice intertwined like two saddened lovers seeking comfort:

"_One, twenty-one guns, throw up your arms into the sky, you and I._"

The two boys shared a very private moment as they held hands and gazed into each other's eyes. They smiled and headed to the main line of Warblers as the audience applauded their singing.

Jeff was the next to step forward. He desperately fought back tears hearing the gorgeous music in his ears and knowing that it would be one of the last times he would ever sing.

"_When you're at the end of the road and you've lost all sense of control and your thoughts have taken their toll, when your mind breaks the spirit of your soul…_"

Thad stood directly next to Jeff as he took the next line:

"_Your faith walks on broken glass…_"

Wes came forward and took a stand to the left of Thad as he sang a lyric:

"_…And the hangover doesn't pass…_"

Finally, David and Trent stepped out from the line of blazers and ties to complete the bridge:

"_…Nothing's every built to last. You're in ruins…_"

The voices of Kurt, Blaine, Jeff, Thad, Wes, David, Trent, and all the other Warblers crescendoed into one beautiful harmony. Jeff could no longer fight back the tears and simply let them fall.

The audience roared their approval as the Dalton Academy glee club launched into the chorus. The New Directions were on their feet in an instant, cheering the Warblers on. Most of them, even Noah Puckerman and Mr. Schuester, had tears in their eyes from the sheer beauty of the song.

"_One, twenty-one guns, lay down your arms, give up the fight…_"

Jeremiah's eyes began to mist as the song continued. He rarely cried during performances of any sort, but there was something so powerful about this particular rock ballad that he just couldn't help himself. But he wasn't only crying because of the song, he was crying because he was facing a moral dilemma.

"_One, twenty-one guns, throw up your arms into the sky, you and I._"

There they were, the Dalton Academy Warblers, deliberately disobeying Allan Kane's rules and decree. Jeremiah could have easily called or texted the headmaster already with the news, and yet something was holding the young man back. He couldn't explain what it was, but there was definitely something on the glee-clubbers' faces that made him think twice.

They were happy. They were free. The man Jeremiah worked for had seen to it that all happiness was sucked out of learning and education. Perhaps that was why the Warblers were now performing in front of thousands, doing everything they could to win that trophy and the advancement to Nationals in New York. They were doing it because it brought them joy, and damn the consequences.

Jeremiah smiled peacefully to himself as he watched Blaine in particular sing out with so much passion and exuberance. "Break a leg, 24K," he said to himself. "You guys definitely deserve to win." He strode silently out of the exit at the back of the theatre. He would let them be. He felt he owed them that much. After all, it had been he who ratted out Ivy Caplesmith to the headmaster. It was one of his biggest regrets. "Today, I repay my debt," he whispered to himself as he stepped into the bright sunlight.

Jeremiah's heart nearly stopped when he saw Allan Kane leaning against his silver Chevy. He was about to turn when the man grinned devilishly and beckoned the young man over. He gulped, wishing he could do anything in his power to make the man disappear.

"Headmaster Kane! I thought you were in Cleveland?"

The grin on the older man's face grew even more sickening. "It was cancelled until next week. I see you've led me right to the Warblers! Excellent work!"

Jeremiah gulped. His worst fears were playing out before him.

* * *

><p>The crowd got to its feet and a storm of cheers and applause filled the auditorium with deafening noise. The Warblers smiled, and Kurt waved at his friends in the New Directions, who were cheering just as loudly as everyone else. A tingle went down his spine. This was what he absolutely loved about performing.<p>

The boys all lined up behind Jeff who had stepped forward to the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, indicating the navy blue sea that stood behind him. "The Dalton Academy Warblers!"

The audience roared once more before they took their seats and eagerly awaited the next song to start.

Jeff growled into the microphone in a way that none of the boys had ever heard before. Kurt's heart raced in excitement. _Knock 'em dead, Jeff_, he thought to himself. _This is your chance to shine!_

"_They're gonna clean up your looks with all the lies in the books to make a citizen out of you…_"

The crowd, especially the students and younger people, began to cheer as Jeff lunged into "Teenagers" by My Chemical Romance. Kurt saw Finn and Puck rise out of their seats and throw the famed rock and roll "devil horns" into the air.

"_Because they sleep with a gun and keep an eye on you, son, so they can watch all the things you do…_"

Kurt was impressed with how much tenacity and anger Jeff seemed to use to attack the words. Jeff was usually just such the antithesis of the song's message that he was startled and amazed by the transformation.

Jeff threw his arms up into the air as he punched his way into the chorus. The other Warblers all jumped out of line and started to run/dance around the stage in true rock concert fashion.

"_They said all teenagers scare the livin' shit out of me! They can care less as long as someone will bleed! So darken your clothes and strike a violent pose, maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me!_"

Thad ran over and picked up the microphone and held it over Jeff's head. The blonde boy screamed into it as he and the other Warblers careened all over the stage in a series of crazy stunts and antics. The audience went wild watching the beautifully chaotic spectacle unfold before their eyes.

After the instrumental break, the boys all lined up with Jeff in the center at the lip of the stage to sing the chorus:

"_They said all teenagers scare the livin' shit out of me! They can care less as long as someone will bleed! So darken your clothes and strike a violent pose, maybe they'll leave you alone but not me!_"

Jeff threw his hands up, encouraging the audience to join in. He never felt more alive than he did in that moment, and once again, the tears fell from his eyes. He was grateful and happy that he was going out with a bang.

The song came to a crashing finale. Once more the audience roared its approval. The Warblers all took a bow before the emcee returned once more to the stage. "Let's hear it one more time for the Dalton Academy Warblers!" The wave of sound was overwhelming as the boys waved out to the audience and headed backstage.

Kurt caught the New Directions cheering the loudest and chanting "Hummel! Hummel! Hummel!" as he exited the stage. He sheepishly grinned and waved their way before he disappeared behind the curtain.

Meanwhile, at the back of the theatre, Allan Kane and Jeremiah watched as the audience cheered. "They're actually here! They're performing on that stage when I specifically told them that they were disbanded!"

The young man glared up at him suddenly finding his voice and anger. "With all due respect, sir, can you honestly blame them? All these kids want is to have fun! And you took that away from them!"

The headmaster's veins bulged as he turned to face his secretary. "How dare you! What, you're siding with them now? Blaine dumped you, Jeremiah! Don't think I don't know what goes on! HE DUMPED YOU LIKE A PIECE OF TRASH, and now you want to defend him?"

Allan Kane glared wide-eyed and hysterical into Jeremiah's blazing green eyes. The young man shook his head and bitterly snapped his words. "No, I'm simply doing what I feel is right because I have an actual, working conscience."

The headmaster glared at Jeremiah with enough intensity to set a house on fire. The headmaster could hear his own heart pounding in his ears before he returned his gaze to the stage. "I'll deal with those boys myself! The Warblers won't know what hit them!" He returned his gaze to Jeremiah. "As for you, I suggest you have a change of heart and think about where your true allegiances should lie!

The blonde young man watched as the man he was forced to call his boss stormed out of the exit. He eyes went back to what was happening on the stage. _What am I going to do?_

* * *

><p>"Oh my god, they're doing original songs."<p>

Kurt was amazed that his old friends had been able to compose their own works for the competition. He imagined that it must have taken a lot of work and effort. The Warblers all nodded in rhythm to the music and Blaine was smiling.

Rachel sang a heartfelt, beautifully captivating original song that she herself had penned titled "Get It Right." Kurt couldn't help but think that the song was dedicated to Finn, whom she had had a major crush on since the New Directions had formed a year prior. This had been followed by the more upbeat group number, also an original song, titled "Loser Like Me," which was fitting for the New Directions seeing as how everyone at McKinley High would always try to put them down.

Before they knew it, it was decision time. All three glee clubs stood on stage, congratulating each other and awaiting their fate. The colorful clothes of the New Directions blended with the navy blue sea of Dalton blazers as they mingled with the Warblers. Kurt took Rachel's hand and gave it a squeeze of comfort.

Blaine suddenly appeared on the other side of Kurt. "Are you nervous?"

Kurt stared ahead at the audience. "Please don't judge me! It's always the moment of the big reveal that I always go into a mini panic."

The boy with the golden eyes laughed. Kurt exhaled. "Crap, you're totally judging me…"

Blaine shook his head. "I think it's adorable. I think you're adorable. But honestly, don't worry about it, whether we win this or not, at least we got this far." He took Kurt's free hand and held it before the emcee proceeded to open the envelope.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we now wait with bated breath to find out which of these fine show choirs will advance to Nationals in New York City in May! Are you ready?" She turned to face the students onstage, who responded enthusiastically. "Are you ready?" She faced the audience, who cheered, whistled, and cat-called loudly in response.

"Alright, in third place…" The emcee opened the envelope. Rachel's grip tightened painfully around Kurt's hand, causing the boy to whisper "Ouch!" She quickly let go and said "Sorry!" before waiting for the verdict. The emcee read the card for what seemed forever. "...Aural Intensity!"

The audience applauded respectfully as the students in red stepped off the stage congratulating the New Directions and Warblers. Kurt shot a glance at Coach Sylvester in the audience and watched her storm off toward the exit at the back of the theatre. _Yep, she's angry_…, he thought to himself.

"And now, for the second place winner…" The emcee brought over a medium-sized trophy from a nearby table that had been set up on the stage. She grabbed the envelope and began to open it. "…Of these two glee clubs, the one who will be advancing to Nationals is…"

Kurt's heart started pounding like a drum as he heard the adhesive of the envelope give way. He gave Blaine a side glance and the boy's eyes said, quite calmly, "Everything will be fine."

It truly felt like years had passed when the emcee finally spoke. "Well, it looks as if the Dalton Academy Warblers will be heading to New York in May!"

Kurt was numb. He didn't feel anything at all for the first couple seconds. It wasn't until Rachel smiled at him, gently cradling his face in her hands and Blaine's warm embrace that he realized what he'd heard. The sound of the audience roaring in approval echoed and reverberated around the theatre.

The Warblers were going to Nationals in New York City!

Kurt couldn't hold back the tears that started falling immediately after the realization had hit him. His friends on the New Directions gathered around him in a big group hug. Finn and Mike Chang hoisted the boy up onto their shoulders while the Warblers cheered and clapped.

As he was being tossed into the air, Kurt realized that he would be going to New York for the very first time. He knew at that moment that this was one of the greatest days in his life.

* * *

><p>David and Thad carefully brought the giant trophy into the common room of Dormitory One. The Sons of Ignatius Dalton cheered as the award was placed on the table in the center of the room. Blaine stood next to the table and held his punch glass up in a toast.<p>

"Hey everyone! I just want to say that it was a pleasure being back onstage with you all this afternoon and that our work this past week really paid off!"

The other boys all held their glasses up into the air and toasted. "To work under pressure and to teamwork in general!" Everyone toasted Nick Corwin in approval of his statement.

Kurt was seated on the cushy leather sofa sipping his fruit punch. He watched as Wes started to tinker away at the piano. Some of the Warblers gathered around for a community sing.

Blaine plopped down on the seat next to him. "Hey gorgeous!" He flashed his sexy grin that not even a dead person would be able to ignore.

Kurt chuckled. "Hey," he said, smiling back. His eyes averted back to the trophy. "I still can't believe we won."

Blaine tilted his head sideways. "Why are you so surprised? We've got a lot of talent on our side! And most of which we owe to you, my little countertenor!" Always the gentleman, the handsome Warbler took Kurt's hand and gently kissed it, sending a wave of heat up his arm and into his chest. Their eyes locked and another otherwise very private moment was shared between the two boys.

It was Nick who broke the tender scene. "Hey guys! I just realized something." The dark-haired boy looked around the room for a brief second. "Where's Jeff?"

* * *

><p>Jeff Honeycutt placed the stylus down and the simple scratch meant that contact with the record had been made. A haunting, bluesy, sensuous jazz melody filled the room as the female singer's voice projected out of the Victrola horn:<p>

"_Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin. Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in…_"

Jeff removed his Dalton blazer and folded it neatly on the bed, placing his canary pin/Sons' badge on top. He ceremoniously loosened his tie and rolled up his dress shirt's sleeves as he walked over to the attached bathroom in his dormitory.

"_Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove. Dance me to the end of love…_"

Kurt and Blaine exchanged a puzzled look. Indeed, they hadn't seen Jeff since they had returned from the competition. "Maybe he's upstairs in his room," Kurt said, thinking it to be the only logical explanation.

Nick shook his head. "He'd better get down here! The celebration's just getting underway!" He smiled and immediately joined Trent, Joe Holden, and David by the piano.

"_Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone. Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon…_"

Jeff shut off the sink and dried his freshly washed face with a towel. He took a good look at his reflection in the vanity mirror. A boy with bright gold, almost platinum blonde hair, dark brown eyes, a rather thin oval-shaped face, and a small sloping nose stared back at him. He looked every bit pathetic as he had remembered.

He opened the top right drawer of the sink's cabinet and produced an old straight razor with a green wooden handle, a priceless antique that his grandfather had given him before he passed away. The blonde Warbler opened the razor and saw the shining, shimmering blade glisten in the pale glow of the bathroom's lighting fixtures. He tested its strength on his index finger and flinched as a tiny sliver of blood appeared. Nodding and sucking his index finger, he put the blade down on the counter and turned on the water in the bathtub.

"_Show me slowly what I only know the limits of. Dance me to the end of love._"

Kurt patted Blaine's knee as he rose from the couch. "I'd better go see what Jeff is up to. I'll be back." He tried not to let the concern show too much on his face. He knew all about Jeff's personal family problems as of late and hoped that the boy hadn't locked himself up in his room in a fit of deep depression. Partaking in the festivities would be the ultimate solution to the problem.

"_Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on. Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long…_"

Jeff shut off the water and stepped, fully clothed with razor in hand, into the room-temperature water of the tub. He sat and basked for a few seconds before becoming fully aware of what he was about to do. He knew that once the deed was over, there was no reversal or going back. It would be the end of the line for him. And yet, he knew he had to do it to teach his parents a lesson. Maybe they'd understand their son now.

He opened the razor blade…

"_We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above. Dance me to the end of love._"

Kurt ascended the spiral staircase listening for any sounds coming from the second story floor. He heard soft jazz music that he was certain was coming from Jeff's room. He followed the sound and sure enough, it was coming from the slightly opened door of the blonde boy's room.

"Jeff?"

"_Dance me to the end of love…_"

The bloody straight razor slipped out of Jeff's hand and fell to the bathroom floor with a soft clink. His vision was blurred and yet he could still make out the bright red marks that now showed ostentatiously on his wrists. The setting around him seemed to spiral out of control as the darkness closed in around him. But just before it surrounded him completely, his life quite literally flashed before his eyes like a fast-paced film reel. He saw his mother and father smiling and laughing, he saw his grandfather fishing in a nearby river, he saw his first day at Dalton Academy, and he saw Kurt's smiling face. How angel-like that face seemed to him in his last dying moments. Lastly, he remembered arguing with his parents about his future, a future that they would no longer need to concern themselves over.

Finally, the darkness took hold and he suddenly saw no more.

"_Dance me to the end of love._"

The record came to a stop as Kurt noticed the bathroom door was slightly ajar and that the light was on. He could have sworn he heard trickling water. Gingerly, he pushed the door open and instantly felt as if a rock had been placed on his chest.

His eyes widened as he tried to scream. There, in the reddened bathtub water, was Jeff. His wrists had been cut with an old straight razor and his normally rosy complexion had suddenly turned very milky and pale.

"No…," Kurt managed, putting his hand over his mouth. "OH MY GOD, NO!" The boy ran over to the bathtub and dropped to his knees as he tried desperately to pull Jeff out of the tub. Hot tears streamed down his face as he called for help. He placed his hand on Jeff's chest and felt his stomach ice over when he felt a dangerously slow heartbeat.

Blaine was at the bathroom door in an instant. "Kurt, what…?" He saw Jeff and visibly shuddered. "Oh my god…!"

Kurt's face was contorted in fear and sorrow. "Call an ambulance right away!" He watched as Blaine ran out of the room holding his cell phone.

All Kurt could do was hold the boy close and gently stroke his hair. "Hold on, Jeff, just hold on! You're going to be alright! You're going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay!" He kept repeating the words like a madman, although he knew he was saying them less for Jeff and more for his own reassurance.

Kurt looked toward the heavens. He still wasn't sure if he completely believed in God, but nevertheless, he prayed. "Please," he said as he started to cry. "Please God, just let him be okay." He hugged his friend close as the tears stung his eyes.

**To be continued…**


	22. The Secret's Out

**Hello Fanfictionites! Wow, what happened to the summer? Is it just me or did it go by way too fast? I hope the coming years slow down a bit so that I could take the time to enjoy them more…**

**Anyway, I have (what I hope is) a juicy chapter for you! Big, terrifyingly exciting things will be taking place (both good and bad, I'm afraid, but my lips are sealed!) I realize that it also jumps around a bit because there are so many things happening at once, so please bear with me. **

**I can't thank you enough for all of you who have stuck by me throughout this process. In all honesty, this story began as a way for me to fill my time during the "Glee" summer hiatus. It's been a pleasure to write and I know that I will definitely be writing more Fanfics after this one's a wrap! Please enjoy! **

Allan Kane paced around in his office. He glanced at the digital clock on his desk. It was 2:47 in the morning. He couldn't sleep for he was too preoccupied. He was worried because four days prior, a boy in Dormitory One had attempted to kill himself. The headmaster realized that such an event would make the school board question his leadership abilities, and he wouldn't allow the accident to linger. The wily man knew that he would have to keep the suicide attempt on the down-low. His record was at stake.

Then, there was that fiasco of the Warblers performing at the Regionals competition. His blood began to boil thinking about it. How dare those stupid boys defy his law and order? He knew that severe punishment was in order, but he just wasn't sure about how to execute such things.

His secretary and spy, Jeremiah Evans, was out for the week using sick time, though he knew that it was all a lie. The young man was simply disgusted with Allan for forcing him to choose between the Warblers and his boss. The older man shrugged it off. _He'll come around_, he thought to himself with an evil chuckle.

Allan continued to pace, perusing the bookshelves that lined the walls of his office. Feeling wickedly nostalgic, he pulled one of the large, old, leather-bound volumes off the shelf and placed it on his desk. He gently turned the pages and found old charts, statistics, and maps of Dalton Academy dating back to the school's opening in 1891. For a moment, warmth almost seemed to pass over his otherwise ice-cold heart.

Despite being ridiculed by teachers and students alike, Allan had a few fond memories of Dalton Academy, though they were greatly outnumbered by the painful ones. He remembered the winter days of playing in the snow and he recalled the warmer spring evenings where the grounds would smell of jasmine and honeysuckle. The reminiscing made his heart ache and brought a smile to his face.

He was about to close the large book and replace it on the shelf when a pullout page with the floor plans of each dormitory caught his eye. There on the yellowed page were Dormitories One, Two, and Three, etched out in red and blue ink lines. It was then that he noticed a faint, dotted line in pencil that indicated a hallway that, to his knowledge, didn't exist. The hallway seemed to cut through the common room and disappear into the blank part of the page. In fact, the other two dormitories had this diagram penciled in as well. _How very curious_, he thought to himself.

Allan closed the book with a snap, gently taking the pullout floor plans in his hand. He grabbed a flashlight from his top right desk drawer. His heart pulsed excitedly as he truly hadn't explored the school since he was a student at Dalton and enjoyed a good mystery. He was going to do a little investigating of his own for he suddenly recalled the legend of the Warbler secret society and he was curious to know what those rule-breaking boys were really up to. Who knows? Perhaps he'd find out tonight.

* * *

><p>Unaware of the oncoming danger, the Sons of Ignatius Dalton were gathered inside the old church. They stood in a circle with their heads bowed in respect. It had been four days since their comrade, Jeff Honeycutt, had attempted to claim his own life. Even then, they were hoping and praying that he hadn't been successful for they knew that he was still unconscious. Kurt, who had decided to stay with the boy until he woke, would call or text multiple times a day to keep them all informed on his condition. There were neither showing signs of worsening nor improving health. This still period was driving them crazy.<p>

Blaine opened one eye and looked around the circle. The other boys all held their heads low as if in deep concentration. He suddenly found himself wishing that Kurt were at his side. The past four days had been pretty rough and he could certainly use the comfort.

Fortunately, the two had spoken every day more than once a day. Blaine was always relieved to hear Kurt's soothing voice on the other end of the phone. He wanted desperately to be at the hospital with Kurt, awaiting Jeff's recovery, but the boy had urged Blaine to remain at Dalton for the time being. Needless to say, Kurt was all too familiar with hospitals after the passing of his mother and a near-death experience his father had encountered the year before.

Wes stepped into the circle and the boys shifted to make room for him. "Brothers, I think I can safely say that the past four days have been hell, haven't they?"

The boys all grunted in agreement, Trent even going so far as to say "Amen."

Wes closed his eyes as he spoke the next words. "Now, I want all of you to join hands. Let us become one single unit. Together, we will work once again to dispel all negative energy from Jeff's mind, body, and soul."

Blaine took Nick's hand to his right and Thad's hand to his left. Thad gave him a small, comforting smile, as if to say that everything would be alright.

"Now close your eyes," Wes continued. "Close your eyes and clear your mind of all thought." Blaine smiled to himself as he saw Kurt's face in his mind's eye. The image of the smiling boy brought him instant comfort.

"Once the darkness has seeped into your mind, focus on your inner energy. I want you to see it as a tiny candle flame deep down in the pit of your stomach. This is the healing energy we will utilize to help our friend in need."

In all honesty, Blaine wasn't so sure how this was going to help, but he was desperate for anything to make Jeff healthy again.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, just outside Dormitory One, the headmaster crept towards the front entrance. He shined his flashlight on the oak doors and gingerly grabbed the brass handle. The door creaked open and he tiptoed inside.<p>

The building was dark with the exception of the bluish white moonlight that shined in through the windows that lined the staircase. Allan Kane's hunched shadow resembled that of Nosferatu as it crept along the wall, obediently following its owner. He studied the floor plan carefully as he held the flashlight in his teeth. Surveying the "secret passage" on the page, he noticed that it was located just inside the common room.

He turned and found that he was coincidentally standing outside the common room. Following the floor plan, he saw that the entrance to the passage was somewhere by the fireplace. Allan gently pulled back the ages-old tapestry of a unicorn that covered the wall and began feeling around with his hands. After a while, a soft click sounded and the wall opened into a cold, dank passageway. Heart racing with excitement, the headmaster walked in. _I feel like a student again_, he thought.

* * *

><p>The Sons had started to hum one solitary note. The sound they created resembled that of a hundred thousand bees all gathered around one hive. Wes was still speaking through the softly escalating din.<p>

"Feel the warmth of that flame and watch it grow. Be sure to harness all of your positive thoughts, high energy, and love into that ball of fire."

Blaine took back any second thoughts he was having regarding the strange ritual. He could actually feel his positive vibes rising through his body.

"That flame is growing bigger!" Wes started to call and shout out now like a gospel preacher. "It's growing out of control! Let me hear you humming so I know that its power is growing stronger!"

The boys all hummed louder, the sound reverberating around the church. Blaine was tapping his foot excitedly. He wouldn't be able to contain it soon.

"Let it out! LET IT OUT! FREE THE BOTTLED-UP ENERGY THAT YOU'VE BEEN KEEPING IN YOU FOR SO LONG! LET JEFF FEEL IT FROM HERE!"

The hums were replaced with loud shouts and calls as the circle finally broke apart and the boys started to run, dance, yell, and jump around the church.

Wes grinned brightly and Blaine could see tears of happiness in the senior councilmember's eyes. "Let it all out! Jeff needs us and he needs as much positive energy as he can get from us!"

Everyone in the old church was so overcome with such radiant joy and exuberance that no one noticed as Allan Kane's head poked out from floor of the podium. He glanced furiously around as he stood atop the metal ladder that had led him to the disgusting scene before him. It also cleared up his suspicions about the fabled Sons of Ignatius Dalton. He now knew that they were indeed fact not fiction and he was the one who had discovered the secret.

He crawled out of the hole and stood tall before he shouted, "SO! What do we have here?"

The sudden silence was lethal. All boys stared blankly ahead in wide-eyed terror as the man they had come to hate with a bloody passion stood before their best kept secret.

The wretched man stood there on the podium with an evil, poisonous grin. "I want all of you to go to my office." The calm was suddenly replaced with an insane expression. "NOW!"

Blaine felt as if he were going to lose consciousness. It was hard to believe that he had been so happy only moments before and now it had all gone to hell in a picnic basket. _That's it_, he thought bitterly. _We're done for_. He was suddenly grateful that Kurt wasn't there for this ordeal.

* * *

><p><em>Jeff Honeycutt scaled the walls of the Empire State Building. He climbed with an urgency that he had never felt before. Normally, he was terrified of heights, but there was something that was urging him on. He peeked into one of the various offices on one of the upper floors and was shocked to find the tiny people inside screaming and pointing at his face. They looked like tiny figures in comparison to his height. He felt like Gulliver in the land of Lilliput.<em>

_Once he reached the top of the landmark building, he grasped the art deco steeple for dear life as he placed his enormous sneakered feet on the rooftop deck for balance. Manhattan was sprawled out below him in all its metropolitan glory. He rubbed the sweat from his brow as a low rumble sounded in the distance. _

_Jeff looked up and saw a swarm of airplanes hurtling toward him. They began their descent toward him and the blonde Warbler found himself swatting them away with a gargantuan hand. _

_Just then a scream cut through the air but the sound seemed to come from the pocket of his dress shirt. He reached his hand inside and pulled out a tiny person. It was Kurt Hummel. The boy tilted his blonde head to one side in confusion. "Kurt…?"_

_A plane narrowly swept down and shot Jeff right in the arm. "Ouch!" He looked up angrily at the flying menace. He gently put Kurt down on the observation deck. Another of the aeronauts tauntingly flew closer, but Jeff reached out and grabbed the plane by the wing and smashed it against the side of the building. _

_The sound of the rushing wind filled his ears. He could hear police sirens from far below. He didn't mean to cause any trouble. He honestly didn't know how he had become involved in these strange and unfortunate circumstances. _

_Six more planes flew in to join those already circling the blonde boy. As one of them flew close and shot bullets into his side, he noticed that the pilot was none other than Allan Kane. His heart started racing nervously as he noticed that all of the planes in this armada were piloted by exact replicas of the wicked headmaster himself. _

_Jeff, truly being taken off guard, was shot as four planes swept by and aimed for his chest. He clutched his heart as the view of Manhattan far below started to blur. _

_Two more of the flying devils dove and riddled bullets into his back. Jeff cried out in agony and felt his fingers lose their grip on the art deco steeple. _

_The last sounds he heard were Kurt's high-pitched scream and the evil laughter of the collection of Allan Kanes as the busy street below rushed to greet him_…

Jeff woke with a start trying desperately to catch his breath. As he attempted to shake the haunting images of the nightmare from his mind, he noticed that he was in a sterile, stark white room. A machine to the left of his hospital bed counted out his rapid heartbeats while a medicine drip to his right explained the cause of his strange dreams. He rubbed his eyes weakly and saw that his wrists had been bound in gauze so that he appeared to be wearing cottony handcuffs. It was then that he recalled everything from his argument with his parents to the feel of the straight razor blade on his wrists. He shuddered knowing that he had been foolish to attempt such a thing and promised himself that he would never venture to that dark place again. His parents were just going to have to learn to respect his decision for the future.

The blonde Warbler turned over and found a handwritten note on the bedside table. He gingerly picked the folded piece of paper up and opened it to read its contents. He instantly recognized his father's scrawl on the page. _When were my parents here?_ The note was not very long but to the point and very poignant:

_Jeffrey, your mother and I are thankful to God that you made it through your terrifying ordeal. We want you to know right now how very sorry we are for treating you so poorly and forcing you into a set path for the future. Your friend, Kurt Hummel, who truly is the nicest young man we've ever met, explained to us that we shouldn't force you to do something if it makes you unhappy. We were just so blind and not in tune with your feelings and we hope that you can forgive us. You're the kindest, most wonderful son that two parents could have, and we want you to know how much we love you. And if you want to be a writer, you go with our blessing. _

_Love, Dad and Mom_

_P.S. We were so frantic that the staff kicked us out of the hospital! Once we get the go-ahead call from your doctor, we'll be right back to see you. _

Jeff wiped his eyes as he cried to himself. His heart boiled over with relief and happiness. His parents were finally acknowledging his dreams and taking into consideration his needs. He had always loved his parents but he loved them even more now. He sensed that changes were coming for his family life and he couldn't have been happier.

He was startled when the door opened and Kurt walked in. He swiftly hid the personal note under his pillow as Kurt stood transfixed at the foot of the bed, unsure if what he was seeing was real.

"J—Jeff?' He stammered.

Jeff smiled awkwardly. "Hello…"

Before he knew what was happening, the navy-blue blur materialized at his bedside and gave the boy a warm, bone-crushing hug. He could feel Kurt's shoulders shake with each sob. Jeff gently patted the boy on his back as tears started to stream down his own face.

When the two disengaged from the hug, Kurt slapped Jeff's arm hard. "Ow!" He cried out.

"That's for even thinking of leaving us, Jeff!" Kurt's anger was quickly replaced with a warm smile. "But how do you feel? I was worried that you would never wake up."

"Well, my arm really hurts now…" Jeff grinned but one look at Kurt's "don't make me slap you again" face made him stop joking. "I feel really tired is all," he replied instead, running his fingers through his hair. "How long was I out?"

"Oh, for the better part of four days…"

Jeff's eyes nearly bugged out. "What? I was out for four days?"

"You'd lost anywhere between 15 and 20% of your blood, Jeff! They said if I had waited any longer to bring you in, you'd be dead!"

The silence that lingered after Kurt's outburst was tense. Jeff let his head fall into his hands. "What did they do?"

"They had to give you a transfusion," Kurt continued. "After they restored your blood to the normal level, they told me it would be a matter of days before you'd waken."

Jeff shook his head in disbelief. "Wow, I really missed all the excitement, didn't I?" He smiled warmly at Kurt, appreciative for his company and for simply being his friend. "Thank you, Kurt. If it weren't for you, I'd probably be dead. I owe you my life."

The boy gently rubbed Jeff's arm, the exact same spot he'd smacked only minutes before. "My instincts kicked in when I found you in that bathtub, Jeff. It wasn't a question of morals. It was simply of matter of doing what was absolutely necessary."

Before Jeff knew what he was doing, his hands were acting of their own accord. He brought Kurt close and kissed him. It was just a simple peck on the lips but the gesture spoke volumes. Kurt didn't even pull back or recoil in shock or fear but simply stood staring back into the dark brown eyes of his best friend. He understood it to be a simple gesture of gratitude and sincerity.

However, Jeff overestimated himself. "Damn it, I'm sorry Kurt…"

"No, no. It's fine, really…"

"I'm not even gay, Kurt! Why did I just do that?"

Kurt patted the boy on the back. "Look, this is a very difficult and confusing time for you, Jeff. You just woke from a comatose state, you're woozy, and you're under the influence of a medicine drip." He smiled. "Still, it was very sweet of you."

Jeff laughed and let his head drop back on the pillow. "Is it okay if we keep that kiss between you and I?"

Kurt grinned and nodded in reply. "It'll be our little secret," he said with a wink. The two smiled at each other and let the comfort of the silence linger. After a short while, Jeff noticed that Kurt's smile had faded and that he had spaced out, a grave expression on his face. "Hey, what's going on?"

The boy seemed to snap out of whatever it was he was thinking about. "Huh?"

"Is everything okay? You look so down."

Kurt tried desperately to shrug it off, but he just couldn't shake the text from Blaine that he'd received just before he walked back into the room to find that Jeff had woken up. The words of the text message remained emblazoned in his short-term memory like a fresh tattoo and each time he thought of them, they burned his heart.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Kurt said with absolutely no conviction and fighting back tears. "There's nothing wrong."

Jeff frowned. "Kurt, I find your lack of trust in me disturbing. Now spill!"

Kurt couldn't hold back the emotions any longer. He sobbed and felt the hot tears roll down his face. "I'm sorry to have to bring this news to you, Jeff," he said between cries. "But Headmaster Kane found out about the Sons."

Jeff's expression turned to one of terror. "Wait, what? How did he find them? What happened?"

Kurt just shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know all the details, but Blaine texted me and said that they're all going over to Allan Kane's office right now!"

Jeff sat up and opened his arms to hug the saddened boy. "Hey, hey. Come here." He cooed and soothed the sobbing Kurt, his heart racing nervously and his blood boiling with this terrible news. "Everything will be alright," he said into Kurt's hair. _That rat bastard_, he thought to himself. _Is this man ever capable of any good news?_

Kurt pulled back from the hug and wiped his nose with a stray tissue. "I'm sorry to break this to you right now, Jeff, especially in your condition. But I just thought you should know…"

The blonde reached out and gently padded Kurt's left arm. "Go, Kurt."

The boy looked up at him, dumbfounded. "What?"

Jeff gave him a small smile. "Go back to Dalton, Kurt. They need you right now. Blaine needs you right now and you should be there for him."

Kurt held a finger up in protest. "But, but I can't…"

"You've done your duty for me," the blonde Warbler replied with a warm grin. "I'm awake now. I've got all my faculties and priorities and I'll be just fine." He made the "shoo" gesture towards Kurt. "I'm forever grateful for what you've done for me. Now go on, get!"

Kurt ran back over to the bedside and quickly gave Jeff a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be here tomorrow, Jeff. I promise." The boys exchanged smiles and Jeff watched as Kurt ran out the door.

* * *

><p>Headmaster Kane took a seat behind his desk and folded his pock-marked hands. The boys all gathered in a giant clump before him with Wes and Blaine in front.<p>

The hideous man shifted in his swivel chair, which gave a loud squeak, before he spoke. He smiled, too, which was never a good sign. "I'd like to tell you boys about a Dalton legend that I heard once. Have any of you heard about the Sons of Ignatius Dalton?"

It was Nick who audibly gulped. The headmaster must have picked up on it too, for he gazed in the general direction where the sound had come from. "It's quite fascinating, really. You see, Ignatius Dalton was the very first headmaster of this school. He served as headmaster for twenty years until he passed away from TB in the fall of 1911. 'TB' is 'tuberculosis' for all you nimrods in the group."

Blaine could feel his face grow flush in anger. How he hated, loathed, and detested this despicable man that he was forced to call "headmaster." He did his best to keep his mouth shut suddenly thinking that a tube of superglue would do the trick.

"Here's the interesting part," Allan continued clearing his throat of all mucus and foreign substances. "Old Ignatius was also the first director of the Warblers. Therefore, he maintained a very close relationship with the glee club until his passing. However, when he died, his pupils were so devastated that some say they continued to keep his spirit alive by moving underground and creating a secret society in his honor. Of course, this has never been proven…" He paused for effect. "…Until tonight!"

The older man stretched his arms and massaged his calloused hands. "Well gentlemen, what you got to say for yourselves? How long has your little club been going on?"

Wes stepped forward to speak. "It's…" He had trouble finding the words. "It's a tradition, sir. It's been passed down to us from generation to generation."

"Oh, I see," Allan responded sarcastically. "And just because it's a tradition, you feel that that entitles you to break rules and continue these rituals by hook or by crook? You not only broke the curfew but you also snuck in the old church which, if I recall, is OFF LIMITS! Besides, what's there to it? You feel it's better to suffer the consequences just to worship some dead man?"

Blaine couldn't stand it anymore. He was not going to sit there and take abuse and insults from some disgusting, pathetic excuse of an individual just because he was headmaster. "That's quite enough!"

The headmaster as well as all of the boys in the group stared wide-eyed in shock at Blaine's shouting.

The handsome Warbler leaned over the desk, speaking through gritted teeth. For an instant, he recognized a flicker of fear crossing Allan Kane's face. "You listen up and listen well. The Sons of Ignatius Dalton is a proud part of Warbler and Dalton Academy history. I can't necessarily speak for the others, but I know that I am damn proud to be a part of something so unique and great. The Sons has provided me with a family and a place that I can go to when I'm away from home. It's somewhere to belong. Now I know that you're a cruel, heartless individual, but you wouldn't dare disband us. It would be a disgrace to the school and a slap in the face to the man who devoted his whole life to developing this very institution!"

A stunned silence from both the Warblers and the headmaster left Blaine feeling satisfied and certain that he had gotten his point across. Allan Kane, whose face had gone completely rigid and pallid, slowly and threateningly rose from his chair. He leaned forward, his face inches from Blaine's as he spat, "Watch me."

He leaned back into the swivel chair and addressed the rest of the boys. "You will all receive suspension for the next two weeks, effective immediately! From now until Spring Break, you will be placed under house arrest and under no circumstances are you allowed to leave the campus. You will go to class and eat your meals. Other than that, your fun days are over. Have I made myself clear?"

The boys collectively nodded, their heads hanging low.

Headmaster Kane returned his gaze to the boy directly in front of him. "As for your, Mr. Anderson, your speech, though lovely and inspirational, is a direct threat and attack on my person. You never, ever, EVER tell me what to do! The headmaster does not take orders from arrogant little twits such as yourself." He looked the boy over with pure hatred in his eye. "Look at you. You're the spinning image of your father—That horrible, wretched man…"

Blaine actually leapt for him. It was Wes and Thad who restrained him. The headmaster cowered in fear only for a split-second. When he came to, his face was red and his veins were bulging out of his neck. "THAT'S IT, MR. ANDERSON! I PASS TO YOU NOW THE HIGHEST, HARSHEST PUNISHMENT: EXPULSION!"

The word hung in the air like a freshly hung corpse in the gallows. Blaine could feel his body go numb. All sound seemed to cease. He noticed that Wes and the others stepped forward and began talking all at once to the headmaster, begging and pleading and making protestations. He knew, no matter what they said or did, that the man would not change his mind. Blaine's hunch had been right all along. The headmaster did hold a grudge against him and now he carried out that grudge in one swift and final word: _expulsion_.

* * *

><p>"Blaine!'<p>

Kurt ascended the staircase in Dormitory Three, knowing the way to Blaine's dorm like the back of his hand. He was anxious to see him knowing that his Warbler brethren had just been excused from the headmaster's office.

All sorts of wild and crazy thoughts were rushing through his mind in flickering cinematic images. Kurt hoped and prayed that the headmaster had been somewhat fair with the punishment, although knowing the kind of person he was, he knew that it was highly unlikely and he simply feared the worst.

When he reached Blaine's dorm, the door was ajar and a tiny sliver of light shined out into the hallway. Kurt pushed the door open and found Thad seated on the bed. He was shocked to find that all the shelves and walls were empty, leaving the room looking shockingly bare.

"Thad…"

The boy looked up at him from the bed looking morose and miserable. "Hey, Kurt."

Kurt looked around the room once more to fully take in the emptiness. His heart continued to rattle around in his chest like an old automobile radiator. "Where's Blaine?"

Thad Martinez, who was always so sure and confident and snide, wore an expression that made Kurt's heart break. He looked like a sad, lost puppy dog that had been abandoned by its master. "Blaine's gone. He just left."

Kurt shook his head. "Wait, hold on a minute. What do you mean 'gone'? What's going on here, Thad?"

"I guess you haven't heard the news." Thad rose from the bed as the springs inside the mattress made a creaking sound. "He was expelled. Headmaster Kane told him to just up and leave immediately. The rest of us have suspension for the next two weeks and I can tell you that the Sons of Ignatius Dalton is pretty much over and done with."

The response was not what he was expecting hear. Kurt fell into an empty bookshelf as he suddenly felt extremely dizzy and nauseous. "No… No! Why would he do that?"

The look Thad gave him was questioning with a hint of "Are you really that surprised?"

Kurt stood up and suddenly realized what he had to do. He couldn't understand why his world was crumbling right before his eyes. Hadn't he left McKinley High to escape all this garbage? "Where's Blaine? Do you think he's still on campus?"

Thad put so much pain and sorrow in his shrug. "I don't know. It's worth a shot."

Kurt was at the door in a flash.

"Oh, Kurt?"

He turned to face Thad once more.

"He loves you, you know. I don't think you realize how much he loves you. He just didn't want to say anything about this to you because he thought it would break your heart. He was too crushed and devastated."

Kurt did his best to keep the tears at bay and stormed out into the night. _Hang on, Blaine_, he said to himself. _I'm going to find you_.

* * *

><p>A couple miles up the road from Dalton Academy, Kurt found Blaine's blue Honda Civic parked in a tiny, unpaved stretch of road. He parked his own car next to the familiar sports car and peeked into the driver's side window. It was abandoned. Kurt did his best not to jump to conclusions, but all he could think about was Jeff in the bathtub and he feared that Blaine had been so devastated that he too would attempt to claim his life. He desperately started calling out into the night with an urgent cry.<p>

"Blaine!" He could hear the name echo across the orchard reverberating off the thick apples trees. "BLAINE, WHERE ARE YOU?" His blood was pounding in his ears and he didn't know how much more intensity he could handle.

He walked a little ways until he stumbled upon a small lake. He was relieved when he recognized Blaine's silhouette seated on a rock, back facing him, in the milky bluish moonlight. The boy seemed to be staring into the cool, dark water, as if it contained a hidden treasure or bore the solution to his problems.

Kurt crept through the trees and finally stepped into the moonlight. He sensed that Blaine knew that someone was there. He gingerly reached out his hand and placed it on Blaine's shoulder. Automatically, the handsome Warbler gave Kurt's hand a squeeze in response.

"How did you know it was me?" Kurt was startled that Blaine had trusted that it was indeed his boyfriend.

"You have a set breathing pattern that I can easily distinguish over most other people," Blaine smiled. "I can also hear your heartbeat. And it's like, no matter where I go, it's always with me. That's why I stopped in this orchard. I was planning on driving as far away from Westerville as possible tonight. But I kept hearing your heartbeat and seeing your face in my head and I couldn't go a mile further. It was as if…" He paused trying to formulate the correct description. "…It was as if your heart was calling me back."

Kurt smiled warmly and lifted Blaine's chin so he could face him. "That's definitely a little creepy, Blaine."

The boy chuckled. "What can I say? I have super-sensitive hearing." The two shared a kiss.

Kurt offered his hand. "Come on, I'll walk you back to your car."

"Thanks," Blaine replied, then fell silent as the entire severity of the situation hit him spot-on. "What am I going to do now, Kurt? Where am I going to go to school?"

Kurt shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Blaine. This is a drastic situation." He was suddenly furious. "Why did that rat bastard expel you exclusively? We're all guilty of holding secret meetings! We should all be expelled!"

Blaine gave him a "Really?" look. "He just hates me. I think it's because he hated my father when the two went to Dalton together back in the early 70s. Maybe I remind Headmaster Kane of my father. Who knows?"

"Still, expulsion due to personal reasons is no excuse! He could get into some hot water for that!"

It was Blaine's turn to shake his head. "I broke his rules anyway! I broke curfew and stepped out-of-bounds by walking into that old church. That's two strikes against me."

Kurt sighed heavily, wishing desperately that there were a way to get even with the evil headmaster. Allan Kane had definitely gone too far this time and his stronghold on the school was the worst it had ever been since his disbanding of all clubs and organizations back in December.

A sudden idea caused him to stop walking. Blaine stared nervously as the boy stood stock-still like a deer who had just heard a suspicious movement in the bushes.

"What is it?" Blaine found himself asking.

"Remember how you had to do study sessions with Headmaster Kane because your 'grades were bad'?"

Blaine nodded slowly. "Unfortunately, yes I do remember." He smiled, confused. "What are you driving at?"

Kurt grinned devilishly. "And you remember how you checked with each and every one of your teachers and they all confirmed that you were well out of the academic danger zone?"

"Yes, of course I remember! What…?"

Blaine merely had to read Kurt's expression to understand what he'd meant.

"Oh, you think that Headmaster Kane tampered with my grades?"

"Precisely!" Kurt threw his hands in the air. "Now, we have pretty strong evidence here to back our claim. After all, being headmaster, he could easily access your file and tamper with it should he see fit. However, it's a question of is he going to get away with it? And that's where the lawsuit comes into play. He'll be out of that office and you'll be back at Dalton faster than you can sing 'Teenage Dream'!"

The two boys shared a smile, though Blaine's quickly faded. "Wait a minute, Kurt. Where are we going to find a lawyer who specializes in these cases?"

Kurt stood in deep thought for a moment. He suddenly snapped his fingers. "I've got it! Ivy Caplesmith! She'll know of any student advocates/education lawyers."

Blaine smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "You're brilliant, Kurt! I'll call her first thing in the morning!"

Kurt and Blaine hugged and laughed like a pair of evil hyenas as they walked back to their respective cars. They had a solution of kicking out the rotten man they were forced to call headmaster and a sure-fire plan to restore peace and order to Dalton Academy. The winds of change were set to blow.

**To be continued…**


	23. Rising From the Ruins

**Hello everyone! Wow, how is it September already? Where did all the time go? Anyway, I apologize for the delay. I've been coming up with new ideas and have been tweaking as I go along. Also, I admit, I had a terrible bout of writer's block, that most cruel and relentless of ailments that all writers experience sometimes. At any rate, I can't thank you enough for bearing with me. These next few chapters will be very interesting. Please enjoy and don't forget to leave your feedback and commentary! **

It was an unseasonably warm evening in late March, yet Blaine opted for the black leather jacket, white t-shirt, and form-fitting blue jeans complete with black riding boots. He had never ventured to Westerville's famed Historic District and yet his good looks and outfit were parting crowds and catching glances from both the male and female pedestrians.

The Historic District was a neighborhood filled with arts and crafts stores, antique shops, independent booksellers, old taverns and restaurants, and even a few converted speakeasies left over from Westerville's wild and unruly days of Prohibition. It was actually a very quaint part of town and Blaine blended in perfectly with the crowds that filled the sidewalks. Both sides of the cobblestone streets had architecture representing every decade from the 1890s to the 1960s. The Historic District had something for everyone.

When Blaine reached an intersection, he stopped and leaned against an old lamppost. He withdrew his hand from his jean pocket and read the scribbled address on his palm. When he raised his head to look around, he saw that the building he was looking for stood directly in front of him across the street. It was a classic diner with a red neon sign on the roof that read "Rocket Café" in swirly, cursive 50s script.

Blaine had called Ivy Caplesmith, the expatriate Dalton Academy secretary, earlier that day and told her everything that had transpired with the Warblers. The older woman listened attentively on the other line, appalled and disgusted at the headmaster's cruel line of behavior. He also informed her of Kurt's idea to sue the headmaster for tampering with the grade book. The older woman had then requested that Blaine meet her at the Rocket Café that night, saying that she wanted to help in any way she could.

The glass front door opened to the clink of a tiny bell. The diner was jammed. A beautiful old jukebox sat directly to his right and was playing a Buddy Holly song. The white tile walls were adorned with all sorts of movie posters, signed record albums, and photos of famous icons from mid-century America. Before him was a stark white counter with red trim that matched the swivel seats. He found the one unoccupied chair and took his seat at the counter.

No sooner had he sat down that Blaine heard a voice from somewhere over his shoulder.

"Well, James Dean's got nothing on you!"

The handsome boy turned and was greeted by the warm smile of Ivy Caplesmith. She was wearing a white uniform and a hairnet which told him that she now worked at the diner.

The two laughed as they embraced. "How are you doing, Ms. Caplesmith?" Blaine was refreshed to see her. "It's so good to see you!"

"Oh, I'm doing just swimmingly, thank you!" The older woman gestured grandly, indicating the diner.

Blaine understood and his eyes widened at the realization. "Do you own this place?"

"I certainly do! And you know what? It couldn't have come at a better time," the former secretary said with a grin. She leaned in closer as if to divulge a deadly secret. "No sooner had that rat, Kane, fired me that I came across this place. It was abandoned. From the looks of it, it must have been closed for twenty years. The local legislation was planning on demolishing it. I stepped in and told them that I'd like to buy the place. It was lucky too because a local historical society wanted to save the diner as well. So, I teamed up with the historical society and we promised that we'd have the place up and running again in a month and a half and they sold it to us for a reasonable price! We bought it, fixed it up, and here it stands before you!"

Blaine was genuinely impressed. He was so happy that the woman was doing so well for herself. She definitely deserved it.

Ms. Caplesmith waved her arms as she took her place behind the counter. "That's enough about me!" She leaned forwardly and softly placed her hand over Blaine's. He noticed that she wore a wedding ring, but to his knowledge, she was no longer married. "I'm terribly sorry about your expulsion. I wish there was something we could do to get you back at Dalton Academy."

Blaine held his head low. "I miss seeing my friends every day. And Kurt…"

He realized that he was getting too personal, but the older woman was gave him a look of complete understanding. "I know how difficult it must be for you, but sadly you're going to have to stay put for a little while." She suddenly smiled. "However, I am glad to say that I can help you with your case against Allan Kane."

Blaine looked up and saw the snicker on Ms. Caplesmith's face. "It just so happens that I started out my years in education as an education lawyer and student advocate…"

He caught on and the two chuckled wickedly in their own corner of the diner. The plan was finally going to be set in motion.

"Now," she began. "We're going to need someone who has easy access to those files."

It only took a second for Blaine to think of the perfect person. "Jeremiah Evans. He's the new secretary. If anybody other than the headmaster can get into the grade books online, it's him."

Ms. Caplesmith grinned and gave a sinister little laugh. "Alright then. Let's get our hands on this Jeremiah kid..."

* * *

><p><em>Please translate the following phrase: Amor vincit omnia. <em>

Kurt lingered over the final extra credit question on his Latin quiz. Of course, he knew by heart that the ancient phrase meant "Love conquers all" and it greatly depressed him.

Ever since Blaine had been expelled, daily life at Dalton Academy had not been the same. The Warblers were greatly affected by this sudden change in their routine. The National Show Choir Competition, which was something that the boys had been looking forward to ever since their Regionals victory, was now an impossible dream. Their morale had hit an all-time low, especially after Wes had to make the drastic decision to officially disband the Sons of Ignatius Dalton.

Perhaps the only good news of the week was that Jeff Honeycutt had returned in good health from the hospital. The only way one would be able to tell that something had happened to him was if they looked at his wrists, which were still bound in brownish gauze. The boys had been so relieved and overjoyed to see him for they had not been allowed to visit him due to their suspension.

Kurt rose tiredly from his desk and presented the complete exam to his professor. Without any sign of emotion, he trudged out the door and into the silent, empty hall. He was simply going to return to his dormitory and collapse. He was thinking of calling or texting Blaine, but thought better of it.

Truth be told, Kurt had hardly seen or heard anything from his boyfriend since the two had devised their plan of suing Headmaster Kane. Kurt merely chocked it up to the fact that preparing for such a task took a lot of hard work and effort. All he knew was that Ms. Caplesmith, the former secretary, was going to represent the boy. That had been almost a week ago, and he had heard nothing more from Blaine. _I just hope he hasn't really lost interest in me_, Kurt thought glumly to himself.

Just as he was about to enter Dormitory One, Kurt heard someone calling his name not far off.

"Hey, Kurt! Hold on a second!"

The boy turned and saw Wes running directly towards him. Kurt was surprised to see that the former senior councilmember was smiling. It had been so long since anyone in the Warblers had displayed any happiness whatsoever.

"Hey Wes," Kurt said with a small grin. "You're smiling…?"

Wes grinned and nodded. "Thad has a proposition for us for Spring Break and I think it's crucial that we all take his idea into consideration. I think we can use the vacation. Come on, we're meeting in the senior commons."

Kurt shot him a confused look but followed nonetheless.

* * *

><p>"Los Angeles?"<p>

David stood, mouth agape, at this extraordinary good luck. He, Kurt, Jeff, Wes, Thad, and Nick were assembled in the room. Everyone else, according to Thad, already had travel plans for the Break.

"Guys, just hear me out," Thad said as he held his hands up for silence. "My parents are currently on a business trip in St. Tropez, and will be until mid-April. They've entrusted me to our penthouse and I think this is the perfect opportunity for us to get some good, quality rest and relaxation. I think that after all we've been through in the past week that we deserve it." The boy grinned wickedly. "Also, my Uncle Marcus works for American Airlines and has hooked me up with a bunch of free boarding passes."

The boys clapped and shouted their approval. Kurt actually perked up a bit, lingering over the endless possibilities that the famed City of Angels had to offer. To him, the names "Rodeo Drive," "Beverly Hills," and "Hollywood" were synonymous with high fashion and designer labels and were greater and more alluring than any Mecca, Xanadu, or stately pleasure dome.

But the flicker of excitement was gone when he realized that Blaine would probably not be joining them. Kurt forced himself to smile but all happiness had flown the coop for him.

"Besides," Thad continued. "Perhaps our time away from school will help us plot a possible demonstration…"

The boys all looked up at him, quizzically. "You mean we're going to strike?" David asked.

"You're damn right we will," Thad replied, assuredly. "We are going to be so loud and vocal about our dissatisfaction that Headmaster Kane will be begging for a transfer by the time we're through with him!"

The boys all nodded and gave verbal feedback as if they were revelers in a gospel church. Thad continued. "He took away our glee club! He took away our secret society! He took away our chance at Nationals! But there's one thing he did not rob us of: our spirit!"

The former Sons cheered and whooped in approval. Kurt remained seated, still crushed about Blaine. Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed that Jeff was watching him with a saddened expression, wondering what was pulsing through the boy's mind.

* * *

><p>Jeremiah Evans was back at work after a nearly two-week hiatus. He was thankful to have the money coming back in as the economy was quite unstable. But he detested having to continue working under that wretched Allan Kane. He had heard all about the Warblers and Blaine's expulsion and he felt terribly guilty for it all. He wanted desperately to set things straight but knew that he alone didn't have the power to challenge and question the headmaster's authority.<p>

As Jeremiah walked across the faculty parking lot, he found Blaine leaning against his red Mini Cooper. His heart started pounding as the familiar feelings started to tug at his heartstrings. _It's okay_, Jeremiah thought to himself. _Just hold your ground and see what he wants from you_. The blonde young man took a deep breath and proceeded toward his Mini Cooper.

"Hey Jeremiah," Blaine said softly. Jeremiah couldn't ignore how great the boy looked in his form-fitting blue-gray t-shirt. He forced his gaze at Blaine's eyes, which was an even bigger mistake.

"H—Hey, Blaine," he stuttered. "How's it going?"

"It's going pretty well," Blaine said with a smile. "Listen, I'd like to talk to you about something. Do you think it'd be okay if we stepped into your car?"

Jeremiah's heart started racing so fast he was surprised that it couldn't be seen bursting through his chest. Nevertheless, he gulped and nodded. "Sure. Hop in."

Blaine grinned and the doors clicked open from the master key. The two boys shifted inside and sat uncomfortably for a second.

The blonde young man was just about to ask what was on his ex-boyfriend's mind when he noticed that Blaine's golden eyes darted to the back seat. Jeremiah heard a noise and suddenly heard a woman's voice speaking into his ear.

"Alright you," the voice said. "Start the car and don't pull over until we tell you to."

"Wha—What is this? And how did you get in?" He started to inwardly panic. Was this a hostage situation? No, he shook his head. It was absurd! Why would Blaine lead him into something like this? The boy wasn't a criminal! Still, there was absolutely no explanation for it.

"You left your trunk unlocked. Now, no more questions! Just start driving and don't say a word unless you're spoken to!"

Despite his inner dialogue, he obediently started the car. He peeked in the rearview mirror and saw an older woman sitting in the back. She had graying hair that was drawn back into a bun and stern features on her face. Her eyes were greenish blue.

Just as Jeremiah pulled the red Mini Cooper onto the street, the lady started to talk. "So, Jeremiah Evans…"

"How do you know my name?" The young man was absolutely petrified.

"I'll do the talking!" The authority in her tone caused him to cease speaking at once. "How do you feel about working under the headmaster? It's to my understanding that you're his secretary, correct?"

Here, Jeremiah's heartbeat quickened once more. Thoughts were speeding through his mind faster than bullets. _Is this entrapment? Are they trying to get me fired?_

"Well, I… I guess he's alright," he lied. He wasn't even convincing to himself.

The woman laughed and shook her head. "I hope you're not planning a career in the theatre because your acting is terrible." Jeremiah felt himself blush before she proceeded to continue. "Tell us the truth or we'll report you to the school board for plotting to overthrow the headmaster!"

The blonde young man gulped, trying desperately to devise a plan as to how he was going to escape this situation. "Alright, alright!" He succumbed to defeat and felt that honesty would be the best policy. "He's a terrible man. He's rotten to the core and I absolutely despise what he's done to you, Blaine." With this, he turned and stared directly into the golden eyes of the boy in the passenger seat.

"Yes, he is," the lady said with poison and anger in her tone. "This is exactly why we would like to employ your help for a very important assignment. Blaine here tells me that your knowledge and expertise regarding computers and their programming is quite extensive."

Jeremiah loosened up only slightly. "Y—Yes…"

The older woman continued. "And it's also come to my attention that you're something of a tech wiz, is that correct?"

He nodded, feeling a little more comfortable divulging more personal information. "Yes, ma'am. If it's computer-related, I can do it!"

He checked the woman in the rearview mirror. He was relieved to see that she was smiling. "Excellent, excellent," she said. "Well, we've got a very important and special assignment for you. We have reason to believe that the headmaster fiddled with Blaine's grades in the online grade book."

Jeremiah's pulse quickened. He wasn't exactly sure he liked where the conversation was going. Nevertheless, he kept his mouth shut and listened.

"We need someone who can easily gain access to the online grade book and other resources and documents. That's where you come in. We're wondering if you could simply check the internet traffic over the course of the last four months to see if he has indeed logged in and tampered with the grades. Do you think you can do that for us?"

The young man was surprised when he found his voice. "Ma'am, that's hacking. It's an illegal offense and a breach of internet privacy."

The woman snorted sarcastically. "'Breach?' Look, if our allegations are true, do you really want Allan Kane to simply carry on with his rule-breaking?"

Jeremiah didn't even have to think twice. He shook his head. "No, ma'am. He must be stopped."

The lady chuckled, looking out the window. "Good answer. Then it's settled. Welcome aboard, Mr. Evans." The blonde turned towards Blaine, who mouthed a "Thank you" of gratitude.

Jeremiah gave a sigh of relief for he truly saw the assignment as Divine intervention. He was finally going to be purged of his guilt and sins, namely for intentionally firing Ivy Caplesmith, the old secretary. Besides, he wanted desperately to help the Warblers in their time of need. _It'll all come around in the end_, he thought with a smile.

He didn't know where this sudden optimism was coming from but it felt nice to think positively for a change.

**To be continued…**


End file.
